23. 
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THE UNIVERSITY 
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OLD LADY MARVams 
7 A Story of the Seen and the Unseen, — - <i S 


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A 


LITTLE PILGRIM. 


Reprinted from PMacmillan’s Magasine, 


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ROBERTS BROTHERS. 
1887. 





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i 
IN THE UNSEEN. 


HE had been talking of dying only the even- 
ing before, with a friend, and had described 

her own sensations after a long illness when she 
had been at the point of death. “I suppose,” 
she said, “‘ that I was as nearly gone as any one 
ever was to come back again. There was no 
pain in it, only a sense of sinking down, down 
— through the bed as if nothing could hold me 
. or give me. support enough—but no pain.” 
And then they had spoken of another friend in 
the same circumstances, who also had come back 
from the very verge, and who described her sen- 
sations as those of one floating upon a summer 
sea without pain or suffering, in a lovely nook of 
the Mediterranean, blue as the sky. These soft 
and soothing images of the passage which all 
men dread had been talked over with low voices, 
yet with smiles and a grateful sense that “the 


6 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


warm precincts of the cheerful day” were once 
more familiar to both. And very cheerfully she 
went to rest that night, talking of what was to be 
done on the morrow, and fell asleep sweetly in 
her little room, with its shaded light and curtained 
window, and little pictures on the dim walls. All 
was quiet in the house: soft breathing of the 
sleepers, soft murmuring of the spring wind out- 
side, a wintry moon very clear and full in the 
skies, a little town all hushed and quiet, every- 
thing lying defenceless, unconscious, in the safe 
keeping of God. . 
How soon she woke no one can tell. She 
woke and lay quite still, half roused, half hushed, 
in that soft languor that attends a happy waking. 
She was happy always, in the peace of a heart 
that was humble and faithful and pure, but yet 
had been used to wake to a consciousness of 
little pains and troubles, such as even to her 
meekness were sometimes hard to bear. But on 
this morning there were none of these. She lay 
in a kind of hush of happiness and ease, not. 
caring to make any further movement, lingering 
over the sweet sensation of that waking. She 
had no desig to move nor to break the spell of 
the silence and peace. It was still very early, 
she supposed, and probably it might be hours 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 7 


yet before any one came to call her. It might 
even be that she should sleep again. She had 
no wish to move, she lay at such luxurious ease 
and calm. But by and by, as she came to full 
possession of her waking senses, it appeared to 
her that there was some change in the atmos- 
phere, in the scene. . There began to steal into 
the air about her, the soft dawn as of a summer 
morning, the lovely blueness of the first opening 
of daylight before the sun. It could not be the 
light of the moon, which she had seen before she 
went to bed; and all was so still, that it could 
not be the bustling, wintry day which comes at 
that time of the year late, to find the world awake 
before it. This was different; it was like the 
summer dawn, a soft suffusion of light growing 
every moment. And by and by it occurred to 
her that she was not in the little room where she 
had lain down. ‘There were no dim walls or 
roof, her little pictures were all gone, the curtains 
at her window. ‘The discovery gave her no un- 
easiness in that delightful calm. She lay still to 
think of it all, to wonder, yet undisturbed. It 
half amused her that these things should be 
changed, but did not rouse her yet with any 
shock of alteration. The light grew fuller and 
fuller round, growing into day, clearing her eyes 


8 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


from the sweet mist of the first waking. Then 
she raised herself upon her arm. She was not in 
her room, she was in no scene she knew. In- 
deed it was scarcely a scene at all, nothing but 
light, so soft and lovely, that it soothed and 
caressed her eyes. She thought all at once of a 
summer morning when she was a child, when she 
had woke in the deep night which yet was day, 
early, so early that the birds were scarcely astir, 
and had risen up with a delicious sense of daring 
and of being all alone in the mystery of the sun- 
rise, in the unawakened world which lay at her 
feet to be explored, as if she were Eve just enter- 
ing upon Eden. It was curious how all those 
childish sensations, long forgotten, came back to 
her as she found herself so-unexpectedly out of 
her sleep in the open air and light. In the rec- 
ollection of that lovely hour, with a smile at her- 
self, so different as she now knew herself to be, 
she was moved to rise and look a little more 
closely about her, and see where she was. 

When I call her a little Pilgrim, I do not mean 
that she was a child; on the contrary, she was 
not even young. She was little by nature, with 
as little flesh and blood as was consistent with 
mortal life ; and she was one of those who are 
always little for love. The tongue found diminu- 


— 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 9 


tives for her, the heart kept her in a perpetual 
youth. She was so modest and so gentle, that 
she always came last, so long as there was any one 
whom she could put before her. But this little 
body; and the soul which was not little, and the 
heart which was big and great, had known all the 
round of sorrows that fill a woman’s life, without 
knowing any of its warmer blessings. She had 
nursed the sick, she had entertained the weary, 
she had consoled the dying. She had gone 
about the world, which had no prize or recom- 
pense for her, with a smile. Her little presence 
had been always bright. She was not clever ; 
you might have said she had no mind at all; but 
so wise and right and tender a heart, that it was 
as good as genius. ‘This is to let you know what 
this little Pilgrim had been. 

She rose up, and it was strange how like she 
felt to the child she remembered in that still 
summer morning so many years ago. Her little 
body, which had been worn and racked with 
pain, felt as light and unconscious of itself as 
then. She took her first step forward with the 
same sense of pleasure, yet of awe, suppressed 
delight and daring and wild adventure, yet per- 
fect safety. But then the recollection of the 
little room in which she had fallen asleep came 


Io A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


quickly, strangely over her, confusing her mind, 
“JT must be dreaming, I suppose,” she said to 
herself, regretfully ; for it was all so sweet that 
she wished it to be true. Her movement called 
her attention to herself, and she found that she 
was dressed, not in her night-dress, as she had 
lain down, but in a dress she did not know. She 
paused for a moment to look at it, and won- 
der. She had never seen it before ; she did not 
make out how it was made, or what stuff it was, 
but it fell so pleasantly about her, it was so soft 
and light, that in her confused state she abandoned 
that subject with only an additional sense of pleas- 
ure. And now the-:atmosphere became more dis- 
tinct to her. She saw that under her feet was a 
greenness as of close velvet turf, both cool and 
warm, cool and soft to touch, but with no damp 
in it, as might have been at that early hour, and 
with flowers showing here and there. She stood 
looking round her, not able to identify the land- 
scape because she was still confused a little, and 
then walked softly on, all the time afraid lest she 
should awake and lose the sweetness of it all, 
and the sense of rest and happiness. She felt so 
light, so airy, as if she could skim across the field 
like any child. It was bliss enough to breathe 
and move, with every organ so free. After more 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. Tl 


than fifty years of hard service in the world, to 
feel like this, even in a dream! She smiled to 
herself at her own pleasure ; and then once more, 
yet more potently, there came back upon her the 
appearance of her room in which she had fallen 
asleep. How had she got from there to here? 
Had she been carried away in her sleep, or was 
it only a dream, and would she by and by find 
herself between the four dim walls again? Then 
this shadow of recollection faded away once 
more, and she moved forward, walking in a soft 
rapture over the delicious turf. Presently she 
came to a little mound, upon which she paused 
to look about her. Every moment she saw a 
little farther: blue hills far away, extending in 
long, sweet distance, an indefinite landscape, but 
fair and vast, so that there could be seen no end 
to it, not even the line of the horizon, — save 
at one side, where there seemed to be a great 
shadowy gateway, and something dim beyond. 
She turned from the brightness to look at this, 
and when she had looked for some time, she saw, 
what pleased her still more, though she had been 
so happy before, people coming in. ‘They were 
too far off for her to see clearly, but many came, 
each apart, one figure only at a time. To watch 
them amused her in the delightful leisure of her 


12 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


mind. Who were they? she wondered ; but no 
doubt soon some of them would come this way, 
and she would see. ‘Then suddenly she seemed 
to hear, as if in answer to her question, some one 
say, “Those who are coming in are the people 
who have died on earth.” “Died!” she said 
to herself aloud, with a wondering sense of the 
inappropriateness of the word which almost came 
the length of laughter. In this sweet air, with 
such a sense of life about, to suggest such an idea 
was almost ludicrous. She was so occupied with 
this, that she did not look round to see who the 
speaker might be. She thought it over, amused, 
but with some new confusion of the mind. Then 
she said, ‘‘ Perhaps I have died too,” with a 
laugh to herself at the absurdity of the thought. 

“‘Ves,”’ said the other voice, echoing that gen- 
tle laugh of hers, “ you have died too.” 

She turned round, and saw another standing 
by her, a woman, younger and fairer, and more 
stately than herself, but of so sweet a counte- 
nance that our little Pilgrim felt no shyness, but 
recognized a friend at once. She was more 
occupied looking at this new face, and feeling 
herself at once so much happier (though she had 
been so happy before) in finding a companion 
who would tell her what everything was, than in 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. ry 


considering what these words might mean. But 
just then once more the recollection of the four 
walls, with their little pictures hanging, and the 
window with its curtains drawn, seemed to come 
round her for a moment, so that her whole soul 
was in a confusion. And as this vision slowly 
faded away (though she could not tell which was 
the vision, the darkened room or this lovely light), 
her attention came back to the words at which 
she had laughed, and at which the other had 
laughed as she repeated them. Died ?— was it 
possible that this could be the meaning of it all? 

* Died?” she said, looking with wonder in 
her companion’s face, which smiled back to her. 
“But do you mean— You cannot mean— I 
have never been so well: I am so strong: I have 
no trouble — anywhere: I am full of life.” 

The other nodded her beautiful head with a 
more beautiful smile, and the little Pilgrim burst 
out in a great cry of joy, and said, —: 

“Ts this all? Is it over? —is it all over? Is 
it possible that this can be all?” 

“Were you afraid of it?” the other said. 

There was a little agitation for the moment 
in her heart. She was so glad, so relieved and 
thankful, that it took away her breath. She could 
not get over the wonder of it. 


4 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


“To think one should look forward to it so 
long, and wonder, and be even unhappy trying to 
divine what it will be — and this all!” 

“‘ Ah, but the angel was very gentle with you,” 
said the young woman; “you were so tender 
and worn, that he only smiled and took you sleep- 
ing. ‘There are other ways. But it is always 
wonderful to think it is over, as you say.” 

The little Pilgrim could do nothing but talk of 
it, as one does after a very great event. “ Are 
you sure, quite sure, it is so?” she said. “ It 
would be dreadful to find it only a dream, to go 
to sleep again, and wake up —there—” This 
thought troubled her for a moment. ‘The vision 
of the bedchamber came back ; but this time she 
felt it was only avision. ‘‘Were you afraid too?” 
she said, in a low voice. 

“T never thought of it at all,” the beautiful 
stranger said; “I. did not think it would come 
to me. But I was very sorry for the others to 
whom it came, and grudged that they should lose 
the beautiful earth, and life, and all that was so 
sweet.” 

“My dear!” cried the Pilgrim, as if she had 
never died, “oh, but this is far sweeter! And the 
heart is so light, and it is, happiness only to 
breathe. Is it heaven here? It must be heaven.” 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 15 


*‘T do not know if it is heaven. We have so 
many things to learn. They cannot tell you every- 
thing at once,” said the beautiful lady. “I have 
seen some of the people I was sorry for, and when 
I told them, we laughed — as you and I laughed 
just now — for pleasure.”’ 

“That makes me think,” said the little Pilgrim ; 
“if Ihave died, as you say — which is so strange, 
and me so living —if I have died, they will have 
found it out. The house will be all dark, and 
they will be breaking their hearts. Oh, how could 
I forget them in my selfishness, and be happy ! 
I so light-hearted, while they —” 

She sat down hastily, and covered her face with 
her hands and wept. ‘The other looked at her 
for a moment, then kissed her for comfort, and 
cried too. The two happy creatures sat there 
weeping together, thinking of those they had left 
behind, with an exquisite grief which was not 
unhappiness, which was sweet with love and 
pity. ‘And oh,” said the little Pilgrim, ‘ what 
can we do to tell them not to grieve? Cannot 
you send? cannot you speak? cannot one go to 
tell them? ”’ 

The heavenly stranger shook her head. 

“Tt is not well, they all say. Sometimes one 
has been permitted ; but they do not know you,” 


16 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


she said, with a pitiful look in her sweet eyes. 
“My mother told me that her heart was so sick 
for me, she was allowed to go; and she went 
and stood by me, and spoke to me, and I 
did not know her. She came back so sad 
and sorry, that they took her at once to our 
Father; and there, you know, she found 
that it was all well. All is well when you are 
phere. 

“Ah,” said the little Pilgrim, “I have been 
thinking of other things. Of how happy I was, 
and of ‘hem; but never of the Father, — just as 
if I had not died.” 

The other smiled upon her with a wonderful 
smile. 

“ Do you think he will be offended — our Fa- 
ther — as if he were one of us?”’ she said. 

And then the little Pilgrim, in her sudden grief 
to have forgotten him, became conscious of a new 
rapture unexplainable in words. She felt his un- 
derstanding to envelop her little spirit with a soft 
and clear penetration, and that nothing she did 
or said could ever be misconceived more. ‘ Will 
you take me to him?” she said, trembling yet 
glad, clasping her hands. And once again the 
other shook her head. 

“They will take us both when it is time,” she 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 17 


said: “we do not go at our own will. But I 
have seen our Brother — ”’ 

“Oh, take me to him!” the little Pilgrim 
cried. ‘“ Let me see his face! I have so many 
things to say to him. I want to ask him — 
Oh, take me to where I can see his face!” 

And then once again the heavenly lady smiled. 

“T have seen him,” she said. “ He is always 
about —now here, now there. He will come 
and see you, perhaps when you are not thinking. 
But when he paises We do not think here of 
what we will — 

The little Pilgrim sat very still, shabeiie at all 
this. She had thought when a soul left the earth 
that it went at once to God, and thought of 
nothing more, except worship and singing of 
praises. But this was different from her thoughts. 
She sat and pondered and wondered. She was 
baffled at many points. She was not changed, as 
she expected, but so much like herself; still — 
still perplexed, and feeling herself foolish; not 
understanding ; toiling after a something which 
she could not grasp. The only difference was 
that it was no trouble to her now. She smiled 
at herself and at her dulness, feeling sure that by 
and by she would understand. 

“ And don’t you wonder too?” she said to 

2 


18 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


her companion, which was a speech such as she 
used to make upon the earth, when people thought 
her little remarks disjointed, and did not always 
see the connection of them. But her friend of 
heaven knew what she meant. 

“1 do nothing but wonder,” she said, “ for it 
is all so natural, not what we thought.” 

“Ts it long since you have been here?” the 
Pilgrim said. 

“T came before you; but how long or how 
short I cannot tell, for that is not how we count. 
We count only by what happens to us. And 
nothing yet has happened to me, except that I 
have seen our Brother. My mother sees him 
always. That means she has lived here a long 
time, and well —”’ 

“‘ Ts it possible to live ill—in heaven?” ‘The 
little Pilgrim’s eyes grew large, as if they were 
going to have tears in them, and a little shadow 
seemed to come over her. But the other laughed 
softly, and restored all her confidence. 

“‘T have told you I do not know if it is heaven 
or not. No one does ill, but some do little, and 
some do much, just as it used to be. Do you 
remember in Dante there was a lazy spirit that 
stayed about the gates and never got farther? 
But perhaps you never read that.” 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 19 


“ T was not clever,” said the little Pilgrim, wist- 
fully ; “no, I neverread it. Iwish I had known 
more.” | 

Upon which the beautiful lady kissed her again 
to give her courage, and said, — 

“Tt does not matter at all. It all comes to 
you, whether you have known it or not.” 

“Then your mother came here long ago?” 
said the Pilgrim. “Ah, then I shall see my 
mother too.” 

“Oh, very soon, as soon as she can come ; but 
there are so many things to do. Sometimes we 
can go and meet those who are coming ; but it is 
not always so. JI remember that she had a mes- 
sage. She could not leave her business, you may 
be sure, or she would have been here.” 

“Then you know my-mother? Oh, and my 
dearest father too?” 

“We all know each other,” the lady said with 
a smile. 

“ And you? did you come to meet me — only 
out of kindness, though I do not know you?” 
the little Pilgrim said. 

“T am nothing but an idler,” said the beauti- 
ful lady, ‘‘making acquaintance. Iam of little 
use as yet. I was very hard worked before I 
came here, and they think it well that we should 


- 


20 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


sit in the sun and take a little rest, and find things 
out.” 

Then the little Pilgrim sat still and mused, and 
felt in her heart that she had found many things 
out. What she had heard had been wonderful, and 
it was more wonderful still to be sitting here all 
alone, save for this lady, yet so happy and at 
ease. She wanted to sing, she was so happy; 
but remembered that she was old, and had lost 
her voice ; and then remembered again that she 
was no longer old, and perhaps had found it 
again. And then it occurred to her to remem- 
ber how she had learned to sing, and how beau- 
tiful her sister’s voice was, and how heavenly to 
hear her, — which made her remember that this 
dear sister would be weeping, not singing, down 
where she had come from ; and immediately the 
tears stood in her eyes. 

“Oh,” she said, “I never thought we should 
cry when we came here. I thought there were 
no tears in heaven.” 

“Did you think, then, that we were all turned 
into stone?” cried the beautiful lady. ‘“ It says 
God shall wipe away all tears from our faces, 
which is not like saying there are to be no tears.” 

Upon which the little Pilgrim, glad that it was 
permitted to be sorry, though she was so happy, 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 21 


allowed herself to think upon the place she had 
so lately left. And she seemed to see her little 
room again, with all the pictures hanging as she 
had left them, and the house darkened, and the 
dear faces she knew all-sad and troubled, and 
to hear them saying over to each other all the 
little careless words she had said as if they were 
out of the Scriptures, and crying if any one but 
mentioned her name, and putting on crape and 
black dresses, and lamenting as if that which 
had happened was something very terrible. She 
cried at this, and yet felt half inclined to laugh, 
but would not, because it would be disrespectful 
to those she loved. One thing did not occur to 
her, and that was, that they would be carrying 
her body, which she had left behind her, away to 
the grave. She did not think of this, because she 
was not aware of the loss, and felt far too much 
herself to think that there was another part of 
her being buried in the ground. From this she 
was aroused by her companion asking her a . 
question. 

“ Have you left many there? ” she said. 

“No one,” said the little Pilgrim, “to whom I 
was the first on earth; but they loved me all 
the same; and if I could only, only let them 
know —”’ | 


22 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


“ But I left one to whom I was the first on 
earth,” said the other, with tears in her beautiful 
eyes ; “and oh, how glad I should be to be less 
happy if he might be less sad !” 

“And you cannot go? you cannot go to him 
and tell him? Oh, I wish,” cried the little 
Pilgrim ; but then she paused, for the wish died 
all away in her heart into a tender love for this 
poor, sorrowful man whom she did not know, 
This gave her the sweetest pang she had ever felt, 
for she knew that all was well, and yet was so 
sorry, and would have willingly given up her 
happiness for his. All this the lady read in her 
eyes or her heart, and loved her for it; and they 
took hands and were silent together, thinking of 
those they had left, as we upon earth think of 
those who have gone front us, but only with far 
more understanding and far greater love. “ And 
have you never been able to do anything for 
him?” our Pilgrim said. ; 

Then the beautiful lady’s face flushed all over 
with the most heavenly warmth and light. Her 
smile ran over like the bursting out of the sun. 
“ Oh, I will tell you,” she said. ‘“ There was a 
moment when he was very sad and perplexed, 
not knowing what to think; there was some- | 
thing he could not understand. Nor could I 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 23 


understand, nor did I know what it was, until it 
was said to me, ‘ You may go and tell him.’ And I 
went in the early morning before he was awake, 
and kissed him, and said it in his ear. He woke 
up in a moment, and understood, and everything 
was clear to him. Afterward I heard him say, 
‘It is true that the night brings counsel. I had 
been troubled and distressed all day long, but in 
the morning it was quite clear to me.’ And the 
other answered, ‘ Your brain was refreshed, and 
that made your judgment clear.’ But they never 
knew it was I! That was a great delight. The 
dear souls, they are so foolish,” she cried, with 
the sweetest laughter, that ran into tears. “One 
cries because one is so happy; it is just a silly 
old habit,” she said. 

“ And you were not grieved — it did not hurt 
you — that he did not know —”’ 

“Oh, not then, not then! I did not go to 
him for that. When you have been here a little 
longer, you will see the difference. When you go 
for yourself, out of impatience, because it still 
seems to you that you must know best, and they 
don’t know you, then it strikes to your heart ; 
but when you go to help them, — ah,” she cried, 
“when he comes, how much I shall have to tell 
him! ‘You thought it was sleep, when it was I ; 


24 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


when you woke so fresh and clear, it was I that 
kissed you; you thought it your duty to me to 
be sad afterward, and were angry with your- 
self because you had wronged me of the first 
thoughts of your waking —when it was all me, 
all through !’ ” 

“T begin to understand,” said the little Pil- 
grim. ‘But why should they not see us, and 
why should not we tell them? It would seem so 
natural. If they saw us, it would make them so 
happy and so sure.” 

Upon this the lady shook her head. 

“The worst of it is not that they are not sure, 
it is the parting. If this makes us sorry here, 
how can they escape the sorrow of it, even if they 
saw us?—for we must be parted. We cannot 
go back to live with them, or why should we have 
died? And then we must all live our lives, they 
in their way, we in ours. We must not weigh 
them down, but only help them when it is seen 
that there is need for it. All this we shall know 
better by and by.” 

“You make it so clear, and your face is so 
bright,” said our little Pilgrim gratefully, “you 
must have known a great deal, and understood 
even when you were in the world.” 

““T was as foolish as I could be,” said the 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 25 


other, with her laugh that was as sweet as music ; 
“vet thought I knew, and they thought I knew. 
But all that does not matter now.” 

“T think it matters, for look how much you 
have showed me. But tell me one thing more: 
how was it said to you that you must go and tell 
him? Was it some one who spoke? Was it—” 

Her face grew so bright that all the past bright- 
ness was as a dull sky to this. It gave out such 
a light of happiness, that the little Pilgrim was 
dazzled. 

“‘T was wandering about,” she said, “to see 
this new place. My mother had come back be- 
tween two errands she had, and had come to see 
me and tell me everything; and I was straying 
about, wondering what I was to do, when suddenly 
I saw some one coming along, as it might be 
now —”’ 

She paused and looked up, and the little Pil- 
grim looked up too, with her heart beating, but 
there was no one. ‘Then she gave a little sigh, 
and turned and listened again. ; 

“T had not been looking for him, or think- 
ing. You know my mind is too light; I am 
pleased with whatever is before me. And I was 
so curious, for my mother had told me many 
things; when suddenly I caught sight of him 


£6 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


passing by. He was going on, and when I saw 
this a panic seized me, lest he should pass and 
say nothing. I do not know what I did. I 
flung myself upon his robe, and got hold of it, — 
or at least I think so. I was in such an agony 
lest he should pass and never notice me. But 
that was my folly. He pass! As if that could 
pew 

“‘ And what did he say to you?” cried the little 
Pilgrim, her heart almost aching, it beat so high 
with sympathy and expectation. 

The lady looked at her for a little without say- 
ing anything. 

“T cannot tell you,” she said, ‘‘ any more than 
I can tell if thisisheaven. Itisamystery. When | 
you see him you will know. It will be all you ~ 
have ever hoped for, and more besides, for he 
understands everything. He knows what is in 
our hearts about those we have left, and why he 
sent for us before them. ‘There is no need to tell 
him anything; he knows. He will come when 
it is time ; and after you have seen him you will 
know what to do.” 

Then the beautiful lady turned her eyes toward 
the gate, and while the little Pilgrim was still gaz- 
-ing, disappeared from her, and went to comfort 
some other stranger. They were dear friends 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 27 


always, and met often, but not again in the same 
way. 


When she was thus left alone again, the little 
Pilgrim sat still upon the grassy mound, quite 
tranquil and happy, without wishing to move. 
There was such a sense of well-being in her, that 
she liked to sit there and look about her, and 
breathe the delightful air, like the air of a summer 
morning, without wishing for anything. 

“ How idle I am!” she said to herself, in the 
very words she had often used before she died ; 
but then she was idle from weakness, and now 
from happiness. She wanted for nothing. To 
be alive was so sweet. ‘There was a great deal to 
think about in what she had heard, but she did 
not even think about that, only resigned herself 
to the delight of sitting there in the sweet air and 
being happy. Many people were coming and 
going, and they all knew her, and smiled upon 
her, and those who were at a distance would 
wave their hands. This did not surprise her at 
all, for though she was a stranger, she too felt 
that she knew them all; but that they should be 
so kind was a delight to her which words could 
not tell, She sat and mused very sweetly about 
all that had been told her, and wondered whether 


28 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


she too might go sometimes, and with a kiss and 
a whisper clear up something that was dark in 
the mind of some one who loved her. “I 
that never was clever!’ she said to herself, with 
a smile. And chiefly she thought of a friend 
whom she loved, who was often in great per- 
plexity, and did not know how to guide herself 
amid the difficulties of the world. 

The little Pilgrim half laughed with delight, 
and then half cried with longing to go, as the 
beautiful lady had done, and make something 
clear that had been dark before, to this friend. 
As she was thinking what a pleasure it would be, 
some one came up to her, crossing over the 
flowery greenness, leaving the path on purpose. 
This was a being younger than the lady who had 
spoken to her before, with flowing hair all crisped 
with touches of sunshine, and a dress all white 
and soft, like the feathers of a white dove. ‘There 
was something in her face different from that of 
the other, by which the little Pilgrim knew some- 
how, without knowing how, that she had come 
here as a child, and grown up in this celestial 
place. She was tall and fair, and came along 
with so musical a motion, as if her foot scarcely 
touched the ground, that she might have had 
wings: and the little Pilgrim indeed was not sure 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 29 


as she watched, whether it might not perhaps be 
an angel; for she knew that there were angels 
among the blessed people who were coming and 
going about, but had not been able yet to find 
one out. She knew that this new-comer was 
coming to her, and turned towards her with a 
smile and a throb at her heart of expectation. 
But when the heavenly maiden drew nearer, her 
face, though it was so fair, looked to the Pilgrim 
like another face, which she had known very well, 
— indeed, like the homely and troubled face of 
the friend of whom she had been thinking. And 
so she smiled all the more, and held out her 
hands and said, “ I am sure I know you ;” upon 
which the other kissed her and said, “We all 
know each other; but I have seen you often be- 
fore you came here,” and knelt down by her, 
among the flowers that were growing, just in front 
of some tall lilies that grew over her, and made 
a lovely canopy over her head. ‘There was some- 
thing in her face that was like a child: her 
mouth so soft, as if it had never spoken any- 
thing but heavenly words, her eyes brown 
and golden, as if they were filled with light. 
She took the little Pilgrim’s hands in hers, and 
held them and smoothed them between her 
own. ‘These hands had been very thin and worn 


30 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


before, but now, when the Pilgrim looked 
them, she saw that they became softer and whiter 
every moment with the touch of this immortal 
youth. 

“‘T knew you were coming,” said the maiden ; 
“when my mother has wanted me I have seen 
you there. And you were thinking of her now: 
that was how I found you.” 

“Do you know, then, what one thinks?” said 
the little Pilgrim, with wondering eyes. 

“Tt is in the air; and when it concerns us it 
comes to us like the breeze. But we who are 
the children here, we feel it more quickly than 
you.” 

“ Are youa child?” said the little Pilgrim, “ or 
are you an angel? Sometimes you are like a 
child; but then your face shines, and you are 
like— You must have some name for it here ; 
there is nothing among the words I know.” And 
then she paused a little, still looking at her, and 
cried, “Oh, if she could but see you, little 
Margaret! That would do her most good of 
ail 

Then the maiden Margaret shook her lovely 
head. ‘‘ What does her most good is the will of 
the Father,” she said. 

At this the little Pilgrim felt once more that 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 31 


thrill of expectation and awe. “Oh, child, you 
have seen him?” she cried. 

And the other smiled. ‘“ Have you forgotten 
who they are that always behold his face? We 
have never had any fear or trembling. We are 
not angels, and there is no other name; we are 
the children. There is something given to us 
beyond the others. We ‘have had no other 
home.” 

“Oh, tell me, tell me!” the little Pilgrim 
cried. 

Upon this Margaret kissed her, putting her soft 
cheek against hers, and said, “It is a mystery ; 
it cannot be put into words; in your time you 
will know.” 

“When you touch me you change me, and I 
grow like you,” the Pilgrim said. ‘Ah, if she 
could see us together, you and me! And will 
you go to her soon again? And do you see 
them always, what they are doing? and take care 
of them?” : 

“Tt is our Father who takes cares of them, 
and our Lord who is our Brother. I do his er- 
rands when I am able. Sometimes he will let 
me go, sometimes another, according as it is 
best. Who am I that I should take care of 
them? I serve them when I may.” 


32 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


“But you do not forget them?” the Pilgrim 
said, with wistful eyes. 

“We love them always,” said Margaret. She 
was more still than the lady who had first spoken 
with the Pilgrim. Her countenance was full of a 
heavenly calm. It had never known passion nor 
anguish. Sometimes there was in it a far-seeing 
look of vision, sometimes the simplicity of a 
child. ‘‘ But what are we in comparison? For 
he loves them more than we do. When he keeps 
us from them, it is for love. We must each live 
our own life.” 

“But it is hard for them sometimes,” said 
the little Pilgrim, who could not withdraw her 
thoughts from those she had left. 

“They are never forsaken,” said the angel 
maiden. 

“ But oh! there are worse things than sorrow,” 
the little Pilgrim said ; “ there is wrong, there is 
evil, Margaret. Will not he send you to step in 
before them, to save them from wrong?” 

“Tt is not for us to judge,” said the young 
Margaret, with eyes full of heavenly wisdom ; 
“our Brother has it all in his hand. We do not 
read their hearts, like him. Sometimes you are 
permitted to see the battle — ” 

The little Pilgrim covered her eyes with her 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. a5 


hands. “I could not—I could not; unless I 
knew they were to win the day!” 

‘ «They will win the day in the end. But 
sometimes, when it was being lost, I have seen 
in his face a something —I cannot tell — more 
love than before. Something that seemed to say, 
‘My child, my child, would that I could do it 
for thee, my child!’”’ 

“Oh! that is what I have always felt,” cried 
the Pilgrim, clasping her hands; her eyes were 
dim, her heart for a moment almost forgot its 
blessedness. ‘“ But he could ; oh, little Margaret, 
he could! You have forgotten, ‘Lord, if thou 
wilt thou canst —’”’ 

The child of heaven looked at her mutely, with 
sweet, grave eyes, in which there was much that 
confused her who was a stranger here, and once 
more softly shook her head. 

“Ts it that he will not then?” said the other 
with a low voice of awe. ‘Our Lord, who died 
— he —” 

“ Listen !’’ said the other ; “I hear his step on 
the way.” 

The little Pilgrim rose up from the mound on 
which she was sitting. Her soul was confused 
with wonder and fear. She had thought that 
an angel might step between a soul on earth and 

3 


34 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


sin, and that if one but prayed and prayed, the 
dear Lord would stand between and deliver the 
tempted. She had meant when she saw his 
face to ask him to save. Was not he born, 
did not he live and die, to save? The angel 
maiden looked at her all the while with eyes that 
understood all her perplexity and her doubt, but 
spoke not. Thus it was that before the Lord 
came to her, the sweetness of her first blessedness 
was obscured, and she found that here too, even 
here, though in a moment she should see him, 
there was need for faith. Young Margaret, who 
had been kneeling by her, rose up too and stood 
among the lilies, waiting, her soft countenance 
shining, her eyes turned towards him who was 
coming. Upon her there was no cloud nor 
doubt. She was one of the children of that land 
familiar with his presence. And in the air there 
was a sound such as those who hear it alone can 
describe, — a sound as of help coming and safety, 
like the sound of a deliverer when one is in 
deadly danger, like the sound of a conqueror, 
like the step of the dearest beloved coming 
home. As it came nearer, the fear melted away 
out of the beating heart of the Pilgrim. Who 
could fear so near him? Her breath went away 
_ from her, her heart out of her bosom to meet his 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 35 


coming. Oh, never fear could live where he 
was! Her soul was all confused, but it was with 
hope and joy. She held out her hands in that 
amaze, and dropped upon her knees, not know- 
ing what she did. 

He was going about his Father’s business, not 
lingering, yet neither making haste; and the 
calm and peace which the little Pilgrim had seen 
in the faces of the blessed were but reflections 
from the majestic gentleness of the countenance to 
which, all quivering with happiness and wonder, 
she lifted up her eyes. Many things there had 
been in her mind to say to him. She wanted 
to ask for those she loved some things which 
perhaps he had overlooked. She wanted to say, 
“Send me.” It seemed to her that here was the 
occasion she had longed for all her life. Oh, 
how many times had she wished to be able to go 
to him, to fall at his feet, to show him something 
which had been left undone, something which 
perhaps for her asking he would remember to do. 
But when this dream of her life was fulfilled, 
and the little Pilgrim, kneeling, and all shaken 
and trembling with devotion and joy, was at his 
feet, lifting her face to him, seeing him, hearing 
him — then she said nothing to him at all. She 
no longer wanted to say anything, or wanted 


36 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


anything except what he chose, or had power to 
think of anything except that all was well, and 
everything — everything as it should be in his 
hand. It seemed to her that all that she had 
ever hoped for was fulfilled when she met the 
look in his eyes. At first it seemed too bright 
for her to meet; but next moment she knew it 
was all that was needed to light up the world, 
and in it everything was clear. Her trembling 
ceased, her little frame grew inspired ; though 
she still knelt, her head rose erect, drawn to him 
like the flower to the sun. She could not tell 
how long it was, nor what was said, nor if it was 
in words. All that she knew was that she told 
him all that ever she had thought, or wished, or 
intended in all her life, although she said nothing 
at all; and that he opened all things to her, 
and showed her that everything was well, and no 
one forgotten; and that the things she would 
have told him of were more near his heart than 
hers, and those to whom she wanted to be sent 
were in his own hand. But whether this passed 
with words or without words, she could not tell. 
Her soul expanded under his eyes like a flower. 
It opened out, it comprehended and felt and 
knew. She smote her hands together in her 
wonder that she could have missed seeing what 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 37 


was so clear, and laughed with a sweet scorn at 
her folly, as two people who love each other laugh 
at the little misunderstanding that has parted 
them. She was bold with him, though she was 
so timid by nature, and ventured to laugh at her- 
self, not to reproach herself; for his divine eyes 
spoke no blame, but smiled upon her folly too. 
And then he laid a hand upon her head, which 
seemed to fill her with currents of strength and 
joy running through all her veins. And then she 
seemed to come to herself, saying loud out, “ And 
that I will! and that I will!” and lo, she was 
kneeling on the warm, soft sod alone, and hear- 
ing the sound of his footsteps as he went about 
his Father’s business, filling all the air with 
echoes of blessing. And all the people who 
were coming and going smiled upon her, and 
she knew they were all glad for her that she had 
seen him, and got the desire of her heart. Some 
of them waved their hands as they passed, and 
some paused a moment and spoke to her with 
tender congratulations. They seemed to have 
the tears in their eyes for joy, remembering every 
one the first time they had themselves seen hin, . 
and the joy of it ; so that all about there sounded 
a concord of happy thoughts all echoing to each 
other, “She has seen the Lord!” 


38 | A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


Why did she say, “ And that I will! and that 
I will!” with such fervor and delight? She 
could not have told, but yet she knew. The 
first thing was that she had yet to wait and be- 
lieve until all things should be accomplished, 
neither doubting nor fearing, but knowing that 
all should be well ; and the second was that she 
must delay no longer, but rise up and serve the 
Father according to what was given her as her 
reward. When she had recovered a little of 
her rapture, she rose from her knees, and stood 
still for a little, to be sure which way she was to” 
go. And she was not aware what guided her, 
but yet turned her face in the appointed way 
without any doubt. For doubt was now gone 
away forever, and that fear that once gave her so 
much trouble lest she might not be doing what 
was best. As she moved along she wondered at 
herself more and more. She felt no longer, as 
at first, like the child she remembered to have 
been, venturing out in the awful lovely stillness 
of the morning before any one was awake ; but 
she felt that to move along was a delight, and 
that her foot scarcely touched the grass. And her 
whole being was instinct with such lightness of. 
strength and life, that it did not matter to her 
how far she went, nor what she carried, nor if 


@ LITTLE PILGRIM. 39 


the way was easy or hard. The way she chose 
was one of those which led to the great gate, and 
many met her coming from thence, with looks 
that were somewhat bewildered, as if they did 
not yet know whither they were going or what 
had happened to them, — upon whom she smiled 
as she passed them with soft looks of tenderness 
and sympathy,'knowing what they were feeling, 
but did not stop to explain to them, because she 
had something else that had been given her to 
do. For this is what always follows in that 
.country when you meet the Lord, that you in- 
stantly know what it is that, he would have you 
do. 
' The little Pilgrim thus went on and on toward 
the gate, which she had not seen when she herself 
came through it, having been lifted in his arms 
“by the great Death Angel, and set down softly 
inside, so that she did not know it, or even the 
shadow of it. As she drew nearer, the light be- 
_ came less bright, though very sweet, like a lovely 
- dawn, and she wondered to herself to think that 
she had been here but a moment ago, and yet so 
much had passed since then. And still she was 
* not-aware what was her errand, but wondered if 
she was to go back by these same gates, and per- 
haps return where she had been. She went up 


40 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


to them very closely, for she was curious to see 
the place through which she had come in her 
sleep, — as a traveller goes back to see the city 
gate, with its bridge and portcullis, through which — 
he has passed by night. The gate was very great, 
of a wonderful, curious architecture, having strange, 
delicate arches and canopies above. Some parts 
of them seemed cut very clean and clear; but 
the outlines were all softened with a sort of mist 
and shadow, so that it looked greater and higher 
than it was. The lower part was not one great 
doorway, as the Pilgrim had supposed, but had 
innumerable doors, all separate and very narrow, 
so that but one could pass at a time, though the 
arch inclosed all, and seemed filled with great: 
folding gates, in which the smaller doors were 
set, so that if need arose a vast opening might 
be made for many to enter. Of the little doors 
many were shut as the Pilgrim approached ; but 
from moment to moment one after another would 
be pushed softly open from without, and some 
one would come in. The little Pilgrim looked 
at it all with great interest, wondering which of 
the doors she herself had come by; but while 
she stood absorbed by this, a door was suddenly 
pushed open close by her, and some one flung 
forward into the blessed country, falling upon the 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 41 


ground, and stretched out wild arms as though te 
clutch the very soil. ‘This sight gave the Pilgrim 
a great surprise ; for it was the first time she had 
heard any sound of pain, or seen any sight of 
trouble, since she entered here. In that moment 
she knew what it was that the dear Lord had 
given her to do. She had no need to pause to 
think, for her heart told her; and she did not 
hesitate, as she might have done in the other life, 
not knowing what to say. She went forward and 
gathered this poor creature into her arms, as if it 
had been a child, and drew her quite within the 
land of peace; for she had fallen across the 
threshold, so as to hinder any one entering who 
might be coming after her. It was a woman, 
and she had flung herself upon her face, so that 
it was difficult for the little Pilgrim to see what 
manner of person it was ; for though she felt her- 
self strong enough to take up this new-comer in 
her arms and carry her away, yet she forbore, 
seeing the will of the stranger was not so. For 
some time this woman lay moaning, with now and 
then a great sob shaking her as she lay. The 
little Pilgrim had taken her by both her arms, 
and drawn her head to rest upon her own lap, 
and. was still holding the hands, which the poor 
creature had thrown out as.if to clutch the ground. 


42 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


Thus she lay for a little while, as the little Pilgrim 
remembered she herself had lain, not wishing to 
move, wondering what had happened to her; 
then she clutched the hands which grasped her, 
and said, muttering, — 

“You are some one new. Have you come to 
save me? Oh, save me! Oh, save me! Don’t 
let me die!” 

This was very strange to the little Pilgrim, and 
went to her heart. She soothed the stranger, 
holding her hands warm and light, and stooping 
over her. 

“Dear,” she said, “you must try and not be 
afraid.” 

“You say so,” said the woman, “ because you 
are well and strong. You don’t know what it is 
to be seized in the middle of your life, and told 
that you ’ve got to die. Oh, I have been a sin- 
ful creature! I am not fit to die. Can’t you 
give me something that will cure me? What is 
the good of doctors and nurses if they cannot 
save a poor soul that is not fit to die?” 

At this the little Pilgrim smiled upon her, 
always holding her fast, and said, — 

“Why are you so afraid to die?” 

The woman raised her head to see who it 
was who put such a strange question to her. 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 43 


‘You are some one new,” she said. “I have 
never seen you before. Is there any one that is 
not afraid to die? Would you like to have to 
give your account all in a moment, without any 
time to prepare ?”’ 

“ But you have had time to prepare,” said the 
Pilgrim. | 

“Oh, only a very, very little ttme. And I never 
thought it was true. I am not an old woman, 
and I am not fit to die; and I’m poor. Oh, if 
I were rich, I would bribe you to give me some- 
thing to keep me alive. Won’t you do it for 
pity ?— won’t you do it for pity? When you are 
as bad as I am, oh, you will perhaps call for some 
one to help you, and find nobody, like me.” 

“T will help you for love,” said the little Pil- 
grim ; ‘some one who loves you has sent me.” 

The woman lifted herself up a little and shook 
her head. ‘There is nobody that loves me.” 
Then she cast her eyes round her and began to 
tremble again (for the touch of the little Pilgrim 
had stilled her). “ Oh, where am I?” she said. 
“They have taken me away; they have brought 
me to a strange place; and you are new. Oh, 
where have they taken me? — where am I? — 
where am I?” she cried. ‘ Have they brought 
me here to die?” 


44 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


Then the little Pilgrim bent over her and 
soothed her. ‘ You must not be so much afraid 
of dying; that is all over. You need not fear 
that any more,” she said softly ; “for here where 
you now are we have all died.” 

The woman started up out of her arms, and 
then she gave a great shriek that made the air 
ring, and cried out, “ Dead! am I dead?” with 
a shudder and convulsion, throwing herself again 
wildly with outstretched hands upon the ground. 

This was a great and terrible work for the little 
Pilgrim — the first she had ever had to do — and 
her heart failed her for a moment; but after- 
ward she remembered our Brother who sent her, 
and knew what was best. She drew closer to the 
new-comer, and took her hand again. 

“Try,” she said, in a soft voice, “ and think a 
little. Do you feel now so ill as you were? Do 
not be frightened, but think a little. I will hold 
your hand. And look at me; you are not afraid 
of me?” 

The poor creature shuddered again, and then 
she turned her face and looked doubtfully, with 
great dark. eyes dilated, and the brow and cheek 
so curved and puckered round them that they 
seemed to glow out of deep caverns. Her face 
was full of anguish and fear. But as she looked 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 45 


at the little Pilgrim, her troubled gaze softened. 
Of her own accord she clasped her other hand 
upon the one that held hers, and then she said 
with a gasp, — 

“T am not afraid of you; that was not true 
that you said! You are one of the sisters, and 
you want to frighten me and make me repent!” 

“You do repent,” the Pilgrim said. 

“Oh,” cried the poor woman, “ what has the 
like of you to do with me? Now I look at you, 
I never saw any one that was like you before. 
Don’t you hate me? —don’t you loathe me? I 
do myself. It’s so ugly to go wrong. I think 
now I would almost rather die and be done with 
it. You will say that is because I am going to 
get better. Ifeel a great deal better now. Do 
you think I am going to get over it? Oh, Iam 
better! I could get up out of bed and walk 
about. Yes, but I am not in bed, — where have 
you brought me? Never mind, it is a fine air; I 
shall soon get well here.” 

The Pilgrim was silent for a little, holding her 
hands. And then she said, — 

“Tell me how you feel now,” in her soft voice. 

The woman had sat up and was gazing round 
her. ‘It is very strange,” she said; “it is all 
confused. I think upon my mother and the old 


46 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


prayers I used to say. For a long, long time | 
always said my prayers ; but now I’ve got hard- 
ened, they say. Oh, I was once as fresh as any 
one. It all comes over me now. I feel as if I 
were young again —just come out of the coun- 
try. J am sure that I could walk.” 

The little Pilgrim raised her up, holding her 
by her hands; and she stood and gazed round 
about her, making one or two doubtful steps. 
She was very pale, and the light was dim; her 
eyes peered into it with a scared yet eager look. 
She made another step, then stopped again. 

“T am quite well,” she said. “I could walk 
a mile. I could walk any distance. What was 
that you said? Oh, I tell you I am better! I - 
am not going to die.” 2 

“You will never, never die,’ said the little 
Pilgrim ; “are you not glad it is all over? Oh, I 
was so glad! And all the more you should be © 
glad if you were so much afraid.” 

But this woman was not glad. She shrank 
away from her companion, then came close to 
her again, and gripped her with her hands. 

“ Tt is your—fun,” she said, “or just to frighten 
me. Perhaps you think it will do me no harm as 
I am getting so well; you want to fnghten me to 
make me good. But I mean to be good without 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 47 


that—Ido!—Ido! When one is so near dying 
as I have been and yet gets better, — for I am 
going to get better! Yes! you know it as well 
agi,” 

The little Pilgrim made no reply, but stood by, 
looking at her charge, not feeling that anything 
was given her to say, — and she was so new to this 
work, that there was a little trembling in her, lest 
she should not do everything as she ought. And 
the woman looked round with those anxious eyes 
gazing all about. ‘The light did not brighten as 
it had done when the Pilgrim herself first came to 
this place. For one thing, they had remained 
quite close to the gate, which no doubt threw a 
shadow. The woman looked at that, and then 
turned and looked into the dim morning, and 
did not know where she was, and her heart was 
confused and troubled. 

“Where are we?” she said. ‘I do not know 
where it is; they must have brought me here in 
my sleep,— where are we? How strange to 
bring a sick woman away out of her room in her 
sleep! I suppose it was the new doctor,” she 
went on, looking very closely in the little Pil- 
grim’s face; then paused, and drawing a long 
breath, said softly, ““It has done me good. It is 
better air —it is— a new kind of cure!” 


48 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


But though she spoke like this,-she did not 
convince herself; her eyes were wild with won- 
dering and fear. She gripped the Pilgrim’s arm 
more and more closely, and trembled, leaning 
upon her. 

“Why don’t you speak to me?” she said; 
“why don’t you tell me? Oh, I don’t know 
how to live in this place! What do you do? — 
how do you speak? I am not fit for it. And 
what are you? I never saw you before, nor any 
one like you. What do you want with me? Why 
are you so kind to me? ~Why — why —” 

And here she went off into a murmur of ques- 
tions. Why? why? always holding fast by the 
little Pilgrim, always gazing round her, groping 
as it were in the dimness with her great eyes. 

‘“‘T have come because our dear Lord who is 
our Brother sent me to meet you, and because I 
love you,” the little Pilgrim said. 

“ Love me!” the woman cried, throwing up 
her hands. ‘ But no one loves me; I have not 
deserved it.” Here she grasped her close again 
with a sudden clutch, and cried out, “ If this is 
what you say, where is God?” 

* Are you afraid of him?” the little Pilgrim said. 

Upon which the woman trembled so, that the 
Pilgrim trembled too with the quivering of her 


. A LITTLE PILGRIM. 49 


frame ; then loosed her hold, and fell upon her 
face, and cried, — 

“Hide me! hide me! I have been a great 
sinner. Hide me, that he may not see me ;” and 
with one hand she tried to draw the Pilgrim’s dress 
as a veil between her and something she feared. 

“How should I. hide you from him who is 
everywhere? and why should I hide you from 
your Father? ’”’ the little Pilgrim said. ‘This she 
said almost with indignation, wondering that any 
one could put more trust in her, who was no 
better than a child, than in the Father of all. 
But then she said, “ Look into your heart, and you 
will see you are not so much afraid as you think. 
This is how you have been accustomed to frighten 
yourself. But now look into your heart. You 
thought you were very ill at first, but not now: 
and you think you are afraid ; but look into your 
heart —”’ . 

There was a silence; and then the woman 
raised her head with a wonderful look, in which 
there was amazement and doubt, as if she had 
heard some joyful thing, but dared not yet be- 
lieve that it was true. Once more she hid her 
face in her hands, and once more raised it again. 
Her eyes softened ; a long sigh or gasp, like one 
taking breath after drowning, shook her breast. 

4 


50 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


Then she said, “I think —that is true. But if 
I am not afraid, it is because I am — bad. It is 
because I am hardened. Oh, should not I fear 
him who can send me away into —the lake that 
burns —- into the pit—’’ And here she gave a 
great cry, but held the little Pilgrim all the while 
with her eyes, which seemed to plead and ask for 
better news. | 

Then there came into the Pilgrim’s heart what 
to say, and she took the woman’s hand again and 
held it between her own. ‘That is the change,” 
she said, ‘‘ that comes when we come here. We 
are not afraid any more of our Father. We are 
not all happy. Perhaps you will not be happy at 
first. But if he says to you, ‘Go !’— even to that 
place you speak of— you will know that it is 
well, and you will not be afraid. You are not 
afraid now, — oh, I can see it in your eyes. You 
are not happy, but you are not afraid. You know 
it is the Father. Do not say God, -—— that is far 
off, — Father !” said the little Pilgrim, holding up 
the woman’s hand clasped in her own. And 
there came into her soul an ecstasy, and tears that 
were tears of blessedness fell from her eyes, and all 
about her there seemed to shine a light. When 
she came to herself, the woman who was her charge 
had come quite close to her, and had added her 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 51 


other hand to that the Pilgrim held, and was weep- 
ing and saying, ‘‘ I am not afraid,” with now and 
then a gasp and sob, like a child who after a pas- 
sion of tears has been consoled, yet goes on sob- 
bing and cannot quite forget, and is afraid to own 
that all is well again. Then the Pilgrim kissed her, 
and bade her rest a little ; for even she herself felt 
shaken, and longed for a little quiet, and to feel 
the true sense of the peace that was in her heart. 
She sat down beside her upon the ground, and 
made her lean her head against her shoulder, and 
thus they remained very still for a little time, say- 
ing no more. It seemed to the little Pilgrim that 
her companion had fallen asleep, and perhaps it 
was so, after so much agitation. All this time 
there had been people passing, entering by the 
many doors. And most of them paused a little 
to see where they were, and looked round them, 
then went on; and it seemed to the little Pilgrim 
that according to the doors by which they entered 
each took a different way. While she watched, 
another came in by the same door as that at 
which the woman who was her charge had come 
in. And he too stumbled and looked about him 
with an air of great wonder and doubt. When 
he saw her seated on the ground, he came up to 
her hesitating, as one in a strange place who does 


U. OF ILL. LIB, 


52 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


not want to betray that he is bewildered and has 
lost his way. He came with a little pretence of 
smiling, though his countenance was pale and 
scared, and said, drawing his breath quick, “I 
ought to know where I am, but I have lost my 
head, I think. Will you tell me which is — the 
way??? , 

“ What way?” cried the little Pilgrim ; for her 
strength was gone from her, and she had no word 
to say to him. He looked at her with that be- 
wilderment on his face, and said, “I find myself 
strange, strange. I ought to know where I am; 
but it is scarcely daylight yet. It is perhaps 
foolish to come out so early in the morning.” 
This he said in his confusion, not knowing where 
he was, nor what he said. 

“ T think all the ways lead to our Father,” said 
the little Pilgrim (though she had not known this 
till now). “And the dear Lord walks about 
them all. Here you never go astray.” 

Upon this the stranger looked at her, and asked 
in a faltering voice, “ Are you an angel?” still 
not knowing what he said. 

“ Oh, no, no; I am only a Pilgrim,” she re- 
plied. 

“May I sit by you a little?”’ said the man. 
He sat down, drawing long breaths, as though he 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 53 


had gone through great fatigue; and looked 
about with wondering eyes. ‘ You will wonder, 
but I do not know where I am,” he said. “ I 
feel as if I must be dreaming. ‘This is not where 
I expected to come. I looked for something 
very different ; do you think there can have been 
any — mistake?” 

‘Oh, never that,” she said; “there are no 
mistakes here.” 

Then he looked at her again, and said, — 

“ T perceive that you belong to this country, 
though you say you are a pilgrim. I should be 
grateful if you would tell me. Does one live — 
here? And is this all? Is there no—no— but 
I don’t know what word touse. All is so strange, 
different from what I expected.” 

“Do you know that you have died?” 

“ Yes — yes, I am quite acquainted with that,” 
he said, hurriedly, as if it had been an idea he 
disiiked to dwell upon. “ But then I expected 
— Is there no one to tell you where to go, or 
what you are to be? or to take any notice of 
your” 

The little Pilgrim was startled by this tone. 
She did not understand its meaning, and she had 
not any word to say to him. She looked at him 
with as much bewilderment as he had shown 


54 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


when he approached her, and replied, falter- 
ing, — 

“There are a great many people here; but I 
have never heard if there is any one to tell 
you —”’ 

“What does it matter how many people there 
are if you know none of them?” he said. 

“ We all know each other,’’ she answered him: 
but then paused and hesitated a little, because 
this was what had been said to her,-and of her- 
self she was not assured of it, neither did she 
know at all how to deal with this stranger, to 
whom she had not any commission. It seemed 
that he had no one to care for him, and the little 
Pilgrim had a sense of compassion, yet of trouble 
in her heart; for what could she say? And it 
was very strange to her to see one who was not 
content here. 

“Ah, but there should be some one to point 
out the way, and tell us which is our circle, and 
‘where we ought to go,” he said. And then he 
too was silent for a while, looking about him as 
all were fain to do on their first arrival, finding 
everything so strange. ‘There were people com- 
ing in at every moment, and some were met at 
the very threshold, and some went away alone 
with peaceful faces, and there were many groups 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 55 


about talking together in soft voices ; but no one 
interrupted the other, and though so many were 
there, each voice was as clear as if it had spoken 
alone, and there was no tumult of sound as when 
many people assemble together in the lower 
world. 

The little Pilgrim wondered to find herself 
with the woman resting upon her on one side, 
andthe man seated silent on the other, neither 
having, it appeared, any guide but only herself, 
who knew so little. How was she to lead them 
in the paths which she did not know? —and she 
was exhausted by the agitation of her struggle 
with the woman whom she felt to be her charge. 
But in this moment of silence she had time to 
remember the face of the Lord, when he gave 
her this commission, and her heart was strength- 
ened. ‘The man all this time sat and watched, 
looking eagerly all about him, examining the 
faces of those who went and came: and some- 
times he made a little start as if to go and speak 
to some one he knew; but always drew back 
again and looked at the little Pilgrim, as if he 
had said, “This is the one who will serve me 
best.”” He spoke to her again after a while and 
said, “I suppose you are one of the guides that 
show the way.” 


56 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


“No,” said the little Pilgrim, anxiously. “I 
know so little! It is not long since I came here. 
I came in the early morning — ” 

“Why, it is morning now. You could not come 
earlier than it is now. You mean yesterday.” 

“J think,” said the Pilgrim, “ that yesterday is 
the othér side ; there is no yesterday here.” 

He looked at her with the keen look he had, to 
understand her the better ; and then he said, — 

“ No division of time! I think that must be 
monotonous. It will be strange to have no night ; 
but I suppose one gets used to everything. I 
hope though there is something to do. I have 
always lived a very busy life. Perhaps this is just 
a little pause before we go — to be —to have — 
to get our — appointed place.” 

He had an uneasy look as he said this, and 
looked at her with an anxious curiosity, which the 
little Pilgrim did not understand. 

“T do not know,” she said softly, shaking her 
head. “I have so little experience. I have not 
been told of an appointed place.” 

The man looked at her very strangely. 

“JT did not think,” he said, “that I should 
have found such ignorance here. Is it not well 
known that we must all appear before the judg- 
ment-seat of God?” 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 57 


These words seemed to cause a trembling on 
the still air, and the woman on the other side 
raised herself suddenly up, clasping her hands: 
and some.of those who had just entered heard 
the words, and came and crowded about the 
little Pilgrim, some standing, some falling down 
upon their knees, all with their faces turned 
towards her. She who had always been so sim- 
ple and small, so little used to teach; she was 
frightened with the sight of all these strangers 
crowding, hanging upon her lips, looking to her 
for knowledge. She knew not what to do or what 
to say. ‘The tears came into her eyes. 

“Oh,” she said, “I do not know anything 
about a judgment-seat. I know that our Father 
is here, and that when we are in trouble we are 
taken to him to be comforted, and that our dear 
Lord our Brother is among us every day, and 
every one may see him. Listen,” she said, stand- 
ing up suddenly among them, feeling strong as an 
angel. “Ihave seen him! though I am nothing, 
so little as you see, and often silly, never clever 
as some of you are, I have seen him! and so will 
all of you. There is no more that I know of,” 
she said softly, clasping her hands. ‘“ When you 
see him it comes into your heart what you must 
do.” 


58 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


And then there was a murmur of voices about 
her, some saying that was best, and some wonder- 
ing if that were all, and some crying if he would 
but come now—while the little Pilgrim stood 
among them with her face shining, and they all 
looked at her, asking her to tell them more, to 
show them how to find him. But this was far 
above what she could do, for she too was not 
much more than a stranger, and had little strength. 
She would not go back a step, nor desert those 
who were so anxious to know, though her heart 
fluttered almost as it had used to do before she 
died, what with her longing to tell them, and 
knowing that she had no more to say. 

But in that land it is never permitted that one 
who stands bravely and fails not shall be left 
without succor ; for it is no longer needful there 
to stand even to death, since all dying is over, 
and all souls are tested. When it was seen that 
the little Pilgrim was thus surrounded by so many 
that questioned her, there suddenly came about 
her many others from the brightness out of which 
she had come, who, one going to one hand, and 
one to another, safely led them into the ways-in 
which their course lay: so that the Pilgrim was 
free to lead forth the woman who had been given 
her in charge, and whose path lay in a dim, but 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 59 


pleasant country, outside of that light and glad- 
ness in which the Pilgrim’s home was. 

“ But,” she said, “you are not to fear or be 
cast down, because he goes likewise by these 
ways, and there is not a corner in all this land 
but he is to be seen passing by; and he will come 
and speak to you, and lay his hand upon you ; 
and afterwards everything will be clear, and you 
will know what you are to do.” 

“Stay with me till he comes, —oh, stay with 
me,” the woman cried, clinging to her arm. - 

‘Unless another is sent,”’ the little Pilgrim said. 
And it was nothing to her that the air was less 
bright there, for her mind was full of light, so 
that, though her heart still fluttered a little with 
all that had passed, she had no longing to return, 
nor to shorten the way, but went by the lower 
road sweetly, with the stranger hanging upon her, 
who was stronger and taller than she. Thus they 
went on, and the Pilgrim told her all she knew, 
and everything that came into her heart. And 
so full was she of the great things she had to say, 
that it was a surprise to her, and left her trem- 
bling, when suddenly the woman took away her 
clinging hand, and flew forward with arms out- 
spread and a cry of joy. The little Pilgrim stood 
still to see, and on the path before them was a 


60 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


child, coming towards them singing, with a look 
such as is never seen but upon the faces of chil- 
dren who have come here early, and who behold 
the face of the Father, and have never known 
fear nor sorrow. ‘The woman flew and fell at the 
child’s feet, and he put his hand upon her, and 
taised her up, and called her “ mother.” Then 
he smiled upon the little Pilgrim, and led her 
away. 

“Now she needs me no longer,” said the 
Pilgrim ; and it was a surprise to her, and for a 
moment she wondered in herself if it was known 
that this child should come so suddenly and her 
work be over; and also how she was to return 
again to the sweet place among the flowers from 
which’she had come. But when she turned to 
look if there was any way, she found one stand- 
ing by such as she had not yet seen. ‘This was 
a youth, with a face just touched with manhood, 
as at the moment when the boy ends, when all is 
still fresh and pure in the heart ; but he was taller 
and greater than a man. 

“T am sent,” he said, “little sister, to take you 
to the Father ; because you have been very faith- 
ful, and gone beyond your strength.” 

And he took the little Pilgrim by the hand, and 
she knew he was an angel; and immediately the 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 61 


sweet air melted about them into light, and a 
hush came upon her of all thought and all sense, 
attending till she should receive the blessing, and 
her new name, and see what is beyond telling, 
and hear and understand. 





fil TLE PILGRIM GOES UP 
HIGHER. 





if. 


THE LITTLE PILGRIM GOES UP 
HIGHER. 


HEN the little Pilgrim came out of the 

presence of the Father, she found herself 
in the street of a great city. But what she saw 
and heard when she was with Him it is not given 
to the tongue of mortal to say, for it is beyond 
words, and beyond even thought. As the mys- 
tery of love is not to be spoken but to be felt, 
even in the lower earth, so, but much less, is that 
great mystery of the love of the Father to be 
expressed in sound. The littie Pilgrim was very 
happy when she went into that sacred place, but 
there was a great awe upon her, and it might 
even be said that she was afraid; but when she 
came out again she feared nothing, but looked 
with clear eyes upon all she saw, loving them, 
but no more overawed by them, having seen that 
which is above all. When she came forth again 
to her common life —for it is not permitted save 
for those who have attained the greatest heights 

5 


66 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


to dwell there — she had no longer need of any 
guide, but came alone, knowing where to go, and 
walking where it pleased ber, with reverence and 
a great delight in seeing and knowing all that was 
around, but no fear. It was a great city, but it 
was not like the great cities which she had seen. 
She understood as she passed along how it was 
that those who had been dazzled but by a pass- 
ing giance had described the walls and the pave- 
ment as gold. They were like what gold is, 
beautiful and clear, of a lovely color, but softer 
in tone than metal ever was, and as cool and 
fresh to walk upon and to touch as if they had 
been velvet grass. ‘The buildings were all beau- 
tiful, of every style and form that it is possible to 
think of, yet in great harmony, as if every man 
had followed his own taste, yet all had been so 
combined and grouped by the master architect 
that each individual feature enhanced the effect 
of the rest. Some of the houses were greater 
and some smaller, but all of them were rich in 
carvings and pictures and lovely decorations, and 
the effect was as if the richest materials had been 
employed, marbles and beautiful sculptured stone, 
and wood of beautiful tints, though the little Pil- 
grim knew that these were not like the marble 
and stone she had once known, but heavenly 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 67 


representatives of them, far better than they. 
There were people at work upon them, building 
new houses and making additions, and a great 
many painters painting upon them the history of 
the people who lived there, or of others who were 
worthy that commemoration. And the streets 
were full of pleasant sound, and of crowds going 
and coming, and the commotion of much busi- 
ness, and many things to do. And this move- 
ment, and the brightness of the air, and the 
wonderful things that were to be seen on every 
side, made the Pilgrim gay, so that she could 
have sung with pleasure as she went along. 
And all who met her smiled, and every group 
exchanged greetings as they passed along, all 
knowing each other. Many of them, as might 
be seen, had come there, as she did, to see the 
wonders of the beautiful city ; and all who lived 
there were ready to tell them whatever they de- 
sired to know, and show them the finest houses 
and the greatest pictures. And this gave a feel- 
ing of holiday and pleasure which was delightful 
beyond description, for all the busy people about 
were full of sympathy with the strangers, bidding 
them welcome, inviting them into their houses, 
making the warmest fellowship. And _ friends 
were meeting continually on every side; but the 


68 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


Pilgrim had no sense that she was forlorn in 
being alone, for all were friends; and it pleased 
her to watch the others, and see how one turned 
this way and one another, every one finding some- 
thing that delighted him above all other things. 
She herself took a great pleasure in watching a 
painter, who was standing upon a balcony a little 
way above her, painting upon a great fresco: and 
when he saw this he asked her to come up beside 
him and see his work. She asked him a great 
many questions about it, and why it was that he 
was working only at the draperies of the figures, 
and did not touch their faces, some of which were 
already finished and seemed to be looking at her, 
as living as she was, out of the wall, while some 
were merely outlined as yet. He told her that 
he was not a great painter to do this, or to design 
the great work, but that the master would come 
presently, who had the chief responsibility. ‘“ For 
we have not all the same genius,” he said, “and 
if I were to paint this head it would not have the 
gift of life as that one has; but to stand by and 
see him put it in, you cannot think what a hap- 
piness that is; for one knows every touch, and 
just what effect it will have, though one could not 
do it one’s self; and it is a wonder and a delight 
perpetual that it should be done.” 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 64 


The little Pilgrim looked up at him and said, 
“That is very beautiful to say. And do you 
never wish to be like him—to make the lovely, 
living faces as well as the other parts?” 

“Ts not this lovely too?” he said ; and showed 
her how he had just put in a billowy robe, buoyed 
out with the wind, and sweeping down from the 
shoulders of a stately figure in such free and 
graceful folds that she would have liked to take 
it in her hand and feel the silken texture; and 
then he told her how absorbing it was to study 
the mysteries of color and the differences of light. 
“There is enough in that to make one happy,” 
he said. “It is thought by some that we will all 
come to the higher point with work and thought : 
but that is not my feeling ; and whether it is so 
or not what does it matter, for our Father makes 
no difference: and all of us are necessary to 
everything that is done: and it is almost more 
delight to see the master do it than to do it with 
one’s own hand. For one thing, your own work 
may rejoice you in your heart, but always with a 
little trembling because it is never so perfect as 
you would have it— whereas in your master’s 
work you have full content, because his idea goes 
beyond yours, and as he makes every touch you 
can feel ‘That is right — that is complete — that 


70 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


is just as it ought to be.’ Do you understand 
what I mean?” he said, turning to her with a 
smile. 

“J understand it perfectly,” she cried, clasping 
her hands together with the delight of accord. 
“Don’t you think that is one of the things that are 
so happy here? you understand at half a word.” 

“Not everybody,” he said, and smiled upon 
her like a brother ; “ for we are not all alike even 
here?’ 

““Were you a painter?” she said, “ in —in the 
other — ”’ 

“In the old times. I was one of those that 
strove for the mastery, and sometimes grudged — 
We remember these things at times,” he said 
gravely, ‘to make us more aware of the blessed- 
ness of being content.” 

“Tt is long since then?” she said with some 
wistfulness ; upon which he smiled again. 

“So long,” he said, “ that we have worn out 
most of our links to the world below. We have 
all come away, and those who were after us for 
generations. But you are a new-comer.” 

“ And are they all with you? are you all —to- 
gether? do you live —as in the old time?” 

Upon this the painter smiled, but not so brightly 
as before. 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. TE 


** Not as in the old time,” he said, “nor are 
they all here. Some are still upon the way, and of 
some we have no certainty, only news from time 
to time. ‘The angels are very good to us. They 
never miss an occasion to bring us news ; for they 
go everywhere, you know.” 

“Ves,” said the little Pilgrim, though indeed 
she had not known it till now; but it seemed to 
her as if it had come to her mind by nature and 
she had never needed to be told. 

“They are so tender-hearted,” the painter 
said ; “and more than that, they are very curious 
about men and women. ‘They have known it all 
from the beginning, and it is a wonder to them. 
There is a friend of mine, an angel, who is more 
wise in men’s hearts than any one I know; and 
yet he will say to me sometimes, ‘I do not under- 
stand you, — you are wonderful.’ They like to 
find out all we are thinking. It is an endless 
pleasure to them, just as it is to some of us to 
watch the people in the other worlds.” 

“ Do you mean — where we have come from?” 
said the little Pilgrim. 

* Not always there. We in this city have been 
long separated from that country, for all that we 
love are out of it.” 

‘But not here ?”’ the little Pilgrim cried again, 


42 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


with a little sorrow —a pang that she knew was 
going to be put away — in her heart. 

“ But coming! coming!” said the painter, 
cheerfully ; “‘and some were here before us, and ~ 
some have arrived since. They are everywhere.” 

“‘ But some in trouble — some in trouble !”’ she 
cried, with the tears in her eyes. 

“We suppose so,” he said, gravely ; “ for some 
are in that place which once was called among us 
the place of despair.” 

“ You mean — ”’ and though the little Pilgrim 
had been made free of fear, at that word which 
she would not speak, she trembled, and the light 
grew dim im her eyes. 

“Well!” said her new friend, ‘ and what then ? 
The Father sees through and through it as he 
does here; they cannot escape him: so that 
there is Love near them always. I have a son,” 
he said, then sighed a little, but smiled again, 
‘‘ who is there.” 

The little Pilgrim at this clasped her hands 
with a piteous cry. 

““ Nay, nay,” he said, “little sister; my friend 
I was telling you of, the angel, brought me news 
of him just now. Indeed there was news of him 
through all the city. Did you not hear all the 
bells ringing? But perhaps that was before you 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 73 


came. ‘The angels who know me best came one 
after another to tell me, and our Lord himself 
came to wish me joy. Myson had found the way.” 

The little Pilgrim did not understand this, and 
almost thought that the painter must be mistaken 
or dreaming. She looked at him very anxiously 
and said, — 

“T thought that those unhappy — never came 
out any more.” 

The painter smiled at her in return, and 
said, — 

“Had you children in the old time?” 

She paused a little before she replied. 

“IT had children in love,” she said, “ but none 
that were born mine.” | 

“Tt is the same,” he said, “it is the same; 
and if one of them had sinned against you, injured 
you, done wrong in any way, would you have cast 
him off, or what would you have done?” 

“Oh!” said the little Pilgrim again, with a 
vivid light of memory coming into her face, which 
showed she had no need to think of this as a 
thing that might have happened, but knew. “I 
brought him home. I nursed him well again. 
I prayed for him night and day. Did you say 
cast him off? when he had most need of me? 
then I never could have loved him,” she cried. 


74 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


The painter nodded his head, and his hand 
with the pencil in it, for he had turned from his 
picture to look at her. 

“Then you think you love better than our 
Father?” he said; and turned to his work, and 
painted a new fold in the robe, which looked as 
if a soft air had suddenly blown into it, and not 
the touch of a skilful hand. 

This made the Pilgrim tremble, as though in 
her ignorance she had done something wrong. 
After that there came a great joy into her heart. 
“Oh, how happy you have made me !” she cried. 
“Tam glad with all my heart for you and your 
son—” Then she paused a little and added, 
“ But you said he was still there.” 

“Tt is true; for the land of darkness is very 
confusing, they tell me, for want of the true light, 
and our dear friends the angels are not permitted 
to help: but if one follows them, that shows the 
way. You may be in that land yet on your way 
hither. It was very hard to understand at first,” 
said the painter; ‘‘ there are some sketches I 
could show you. No one has ever made a 
picture of it, though many have tried; but I 
could show you some sketches — if you wish to 
see." 

To this the little Pilgrim’s look was so plain an 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 75 


answer that the painter laid down his pallet and 
his brush, and left his work, to show them to her 
as he had promised. They went down from the 
balcony and along the street until they came to 
one of the great palaces, where many were 
coming and going. Here they walked through 
some vast halls, where students were working at 
easels, doing every kind of beautiful work: some 
painting pictures, some preparing drawings, plan- 
ning houses and palaces. The Pilgrim would 
have liked to pause at every moment to see one 
lovely thing or another ; but the painter walked 
on steadily till he came to a room which was full 
of sketches, some of them like pictures in little, 
with many figures, — some of them only a repre- 
sentation of a flower, or the wing of a bird. 
“These are all the master’s,” he said; ‘‘ some- 
times the sight of them will be enough to put 
something great into the mind of another. In 
this corner are the sketches I told you of.” 
There were two of them hanging together upon 
the wall, and at first it seemed to the little Pilgrim 
as if they represented the flames and fire of which 
she had read, and this made her shudder for the 
moment. But then she saw that it was a red 
light like a stormy sunset, with masses of clouds 
in the sky, and a low sun very fiery and dazzling, 


j6 A LITTLE PILGRIM. ; 


which no doubt to a hasty glance must have 
looked, with its dark shadows and high lurid 
lights, like the fires of the bottomless pit. But 
when you looked down you saw the reality what 
it was. The country that lay beneath was full of 
tropical foliage, but with many stretches of sand 
and dry plains, and in the foreground was a 
town, that looked very prosperous and crowded, 
though the figures were very minute, the subject 
being so great; but no one to see it would have 
taken it for anything but a busy and wealthy 
place, in a thunderous atmosphere, with a storm 
coming on. Inthe next there was a section of 
a street with a great banqueting hall open to the 
view, and many people sitting about the table. 
You could see that there was a great deal of 
laughter and conversation going on, some very 
noisy groups, but others that sat more quietly in 
corners and conversed, and some who sang, and 
every kind of entertainment. The little Pilgrim 
was very much astonished to see this, and turned 
to the painter, who answered her directly, though 
she had not spoken. ‘ We used to think differ- 
ently once. There are some who are there and 
do not know it. They think only it is the old 
life over again, but always worse, and they are 
led on in the ways of evil; but they do not feel 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 77 


the punishment until they begin to find out where 
they are and to struggle, and wish for other 
things.” 

The little Pilgrim felt her heart beat very wildly 
while she looked at this, and she thought upon 
the rich man in the parable, who, though he was 
himself in torment, prayed that his brother might 
be saved, and she said to herself, ‘‘Our dear 
Lord would never leave him there who could 
think of his brother when he was himself in such 
a strait.’ And when she looked at the painter 
he smiled upon her, and nodded his head. Then 
he led her to the other corner of the room where 
there were other pictures. One of them was of 
a party seated round a table and an angel looking 
on. ‘The angel had the aspect of a traveller, as if 
he were passing quickly by and had but paused 
a moment to look, and one of the men glancing 
up suddenly saw him. ‘The picture was dim, but 
the startled look upon this man’s face, and the 
sorrow on the angel’s, appeared out of the misty 
background with such truth that the tears came 
into the little Pilgrim’s eyes, and she said in her 
heart, “Oh that I could go to him and help 
him!” The other sketches were dimmer and 
dimmer. You seemed to see out of the darkness, 
gleaming lights, and companies of revellers, out o} 


78 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


which here and there was one trying to escape. 
And then the wide plains in the night, and the 
white vision of the angel in the distance, and here 
and there by different paths a fugitive striving to 
follow. ‘Oh, sir,” said the little Pilgrim, “how 
did you learn to do it? You have never been 
there? 

“Tt was the master, not I; and I cannot tell 
you if he has ever been there. When the Father 
has given you that gift, you can go to many 
places, without leaving the one where you are. 
And then he has heard what the angels say.” 

“And will they all get safe at the last? 
and even that great spirit, he that fell from 
heaven —”’ 

The painter shook his head and said, “It is 
not permitted to you and me to know such great 
things. _ Perhaps the wise will tell you if you ask 
them: but for me I ask the Father in my heart 
and Jisten to what he says.” 

“That is best!’ the little Pilgrim said; and 
she asked the Father in her heart: and there 
came all over her such a glow of warmth and 
happiness that her soul was satisfied. She looked 
in the painter’s face and laughed for joy. And 
he put out his hands as if welcoming some one, 
and his countenance shone ; and he said, — 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 79 


** My son had a great gift. He was a master 
born, though it was not given to me. He shall 
paint it all for us so that the heart shall rejoice ; 

and you will come again and see.” 

_ After that it happened to the little Pilgrim to 
enter into another great palace where there were 
many people reading, and some sitting at their 
desks and writing, and some consulting together, 
with many great volumes stretched out open upon 
the tables. One of these who was seated alone 
looked up as she paused wondering at him, and 
smiled as every one did, and greeted her with 
such a friendly tone that the Pilgrim, who always 
had a great desire to know, came nearer to him 
and looked at the book, then begged his pardon, 
and said she did not know that books were 
needed here. And then he told her that he was 
one of the historians of the city where all the 
records of the world were kept, and that it was 
his business to work upon the great history, and 
to show what was the meaning of the Father in 
everything that had happened, and how each 
event came in its right place. 

“And do you get it out of books ?”’ she asked ; 
for she was not learned, nor wise, and knew but 
little, though she always loved to know. 

“The books are the records,” he said ; “and 


80 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


there are many here that were never known to us 
in the old days; for the angels love to look into 
these things, and they can tell us much, for they 
saw it; and in the great books they have kept 
there is much put down that was never in the 
books we wrote, for then we did not know. We 
found out about the kings and the state, and 
tried to understand what great purposes they 
were serving; but even these we did not know, 
for those purposes were too great for us, not 
knowing the end from the beginning, and the 
hearts of men were too great for us. We com- 
prehended the evil sometimes, but never fathomed 
the good. And how could we know the lesser 
things which were working out God’s way? for 
some of these even the angels did not know; 
and it has happened to me that our Lord him- 
self has come in sometimes to tell me of one that 
none of us had discovered.” 

“Oh,” said the little Pilgrim, with tears in her 
eyes, “I should like to have been that one !— 
that was not known even to the angels, but only 
to Himself!” 

The historian smiled. “It was my brother,” 
he said. 

The Pilgrim looked at him with great wonder. 
“Your brother, and you did not know him!” 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 81 


And then he turned over the pages and showed 
her where the story was. 

* You know,” he said, “ that we who live here 
are not of your time, but have lived and lived 
here till the old life is far away and like a dream. 
There were great tumults and fightings in our 
time, and it was settled by the prince of the 
place that our town was to be abandoned, and 
all the people left to the mercy of an enemy who 
had no mercy. But every day as he rode out he 
saw at one door a child, a little fair boy, who sat 
on the steps, and sang his little song like a bird. 
This child was never afraid of anything, — when 
the horses pranced past him, and the troopers 
pushed him aside, he looked up into their faces 
and smiled. And when he had anything, a piece 
of bread, or an apple, or a plaything, he shared 
it with his playmates ; and his little face, and his 
pretty voice, and all his pleasant ways, made that 
corner bright. He was like a flower growing 
there ; everybody smiled that saw him.” 

“T have seen such a child,” the little Pilgrim 
said. 

“But we made no account of him,” said the 
historian. “The Lord of the place came past 
him every day, and always saw him singing in the 


sun by his father’s door. And it was a wonder 
6 


82 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


then, and it has been a wonder ever since, why, 
having resolved upon it, that prince did not 
abandon the town, which would have changed all 
his fortune after. Much had been made clear to’ 
me since I began to study, but not this: till the 
Lord himself came to me and told me. The 
prince looked at the child till he loved him, and 
he reflected how many children there were like 
this that would be murdered, or starved to death, 
and he could not give up the little singing boy 
to the sword. So he remained; and the town 
was saved, and he became a great king. It was 
so secret that even the angels did not know it. 
But without that child the history would not have 
been complete.” 

** And is he here?” the little Pilgrim said. 

*‘ Ah,” said the historian, ‘ that is more strange 
still; for that which saved him was also to his - 
harm. He is not here. He is Elsewhere.” 

The little Pilgrim’s face grew sad; but then 
she remembered what she had been told. 

“ But you know,” she said, “that he is com- 
ing?” 

“T know that our Father will never forsake 
him, and that everything that is being accom- 
plished in him is well.” 

“Ts it well to suffer? Is it well to live in that 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 83 


dark stormy country? Oh, that they were all 
here, and happy like you!” 

He shook his head a little and said, — 

“Tt was a long time before I got here; and as 
for suffering that matters little. You get experi- 
ence by it. You are more accomplished and fit 
for greater work in the end. It is not for noth- 
int that we are permitted to wander; and some- 
times one goes to the edge of despair —” 

She looked at him with such wondering eyes 
that he answered her without a word. 

“Ves,” he said, “ I have been there.” 

And then it seemed to her that there was 
something in his eyes which she had not re- 
marked before. Not only the great content 
that was everywhere, but a deeper light, and 
the air of a judge who knew both good and 
evil, and could see both sides, and understood 
all, both to love and to hate. 

“ Little sister,” he said, “ you have never wan- 
dered far; it is not needful for such as you. 
Love teaches you, and you need no more; but 
when we have to be trained for an office like this, 
to make the way of the Lord clear through all 
the generations, reason is that we should see 
everything, and learn all that man is and can be. 
These things are too deep for us; we stumble 


84 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


on, and know not till after. But now to me it is 
all clear.” 

She looked at him again and again while he 
spoke, and it seemed to her that she saw in him 
such great knowledge and tenderness as made 
her glad ; and how he could understand the fol- 
lies that men had done, and fathom what real 
meaning was in them, and disentangle all the 
threads. He smiled as she gazed at him, and 
answered as if she had spoken. 

“What was evil perishes, and what was good 
remains; almost everywhere there is a little 
good. We could not understand all if we had 
not seen all and shared all.” ; 

“‘ And the punishment too,” she said, wonder- 
ing more and more. 

He smiled so joyfully that it was like laughter. 

“Pain is a great angel,’’ he said. “The rea- 
son we hated him in the old days was because 
he tended to death and decay; but when it is 
towards life he leads, we fear him no more. The 
welcome thing of all in the land of darkness is 
when you see him first and know who he is; 
for by this you are aware that you have found the 
way.” 

The little Pilgrim did nothing but question 
with her anxious eyes, for this was such a won- 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 85 


der to her, and she could not understand. But 
he only sat musing with a smile over the things 
he remembered. And at last he said, — 

“Tf this is so interesting to you, you shall read 
it all in another place, in the room where we have 
laid up our own experiences, in order to serve 
for the history afterwards. But we are still busy 
upon the work of the earth. ‘There is always 
something new to be discovered. And it is 
essential for the whole world that the chronicle 
should be full. I am in great joy because it was 
but just now that our Lord told me about that 
child. Everything was imperfect without him, 
but now it is clear.” 

“You mean your brother? And you are happy 
though you are not sure if he is happy?” the 
little Pilgrim said. 

“Tt is not to be happy that we live,” said he ; 
and then, “ We are all happy so soon as we have 
found the way.” 

She would have asked him more, but that he ° 
was called to a consultation with some others of 
his kind, and had to leave her, waving his hand 
to her with a tender kindness which went to her 
heart. She looked after him with great respect, 
scarcely knowing why ; but it seemed to her that 
a man who had been in the land of darkness, and 


86 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


made his way out of it, must be more wonderful 
than any other. She looked round for a little 
upon the great library, full of all the books that 
had ever been written, and where people were 
doing their work, examining and reading and 
making extracts, every one with looks of so much 
interest, that she almost envied them, — though 
it was a generous delight in seeing people so 
happy in their occupation, and a desire to asso- 
ciate herself somehow in it, rather than any 
grudging of their satisfaction, that was in her 
mind. She went about all the courts of this 
palace alone, and everywhere saw the same work 
going on, and everywhere met the same kind 
looks. Even when the greatest of all looked up 
from his work and saw her, he would give her a 
friendly greeting and a smile; and nobody was 
too wise to lend an ear to the little visitor, or to 
answer her questions. And this was how it was 
that she began to talk to another, who was seated 
at a great table with many more, and who drew 
her to him by something that was in his looks, 
though she could not have told what it was. It 
was not that he was kinder than the rest, for they 
were all kind. She stood by him a little, and saw 
how he worked and would take something from 
one book and something from another, putting 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 87 


them ready for use. And it did not seem any 
trouble to do this work, but only pleasure, and 
the very pen in his hand was like a winged thing, 
as if it loved to write. When he saw her watch- 
ing him, he looked up and showed her the beau- 
tiful book out of which he was copying, which 
was all illuminated with lovely pictures. 

“This is one of the volumes of the great his- 
tory,” he said. ‘‘There are some things in it 
which are needed for another, and it is a pleas- 
ure to work at it. If you will come here you will 
be able to see the page while I write.” 

Then the little Pilgrim asked him some ques- 
tions about the pictures, and he answered her, 
describing and explaining them ; for they were in 
the middle of the history, and she did not under- 
stand what it was. When she said, “I ought not 
to trouble you, for you are busy,” he laughed so 
kindly that she laughed too for pleasure. And 
be said, — 

“There is no trouble here. When we are not 
allowed to work, as sometimes happens, that 
makes us not quite so happy, but it is very sel- 
dom that it happens so.” 

“Ts it for punishment? ”’ she said. 

And then he laughed out with a sound which 
‘made all the others look up smiling ; and if they 


88 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


had not all looked so tenderly at her, as at a 
child who has made such a mistake as it is pretty 
for the child to make, she would have feared she 
had said something wrong ; but she only laughed 
at herself too, and blushed a little, knowing that 
she was not wise: and to put her at her ease 
again, he turned the leaf and showed her other 
pictures, and the story which went with them, 
from which he was copying something. And he 
said, -—— 

“This is for another book, to show how th 
grace of the Father was beautiful in some homes 
and families. It is not the great history, but con- 
nected with it ; and there are many who love that 
better than the story which is more great.” 

Then the Pilgrim looked in his face and said, — 

“What I want most is, to know about your 
homes here.” 

“Tt is all home here,” he said, and smiled ; 
and then, as he met her wistful looks, he went 
on to tell her that he and his brothers were not 
always there. “We have all our occupations,” 
he said, “and sometimes I am sent to inquire 
into facts that have happened, of which the 
record is not clear; for we must omit nothing ; 
and sometimes we are told to rest and take in 
new strength; and sometimes —” ¥ 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 89 


“‘ But oh, forgive me,” cried the little Pilgrim, 
“you had some who were more dear to you than 
all the world in the old time?” 

And the others all looked up again at the 
question, and looked at her with tender eyes, 
and said to the man whom she questioned, — 
“Speak !”’ 

He made a little pause before he spoke, and 
he looked at one here and there, and called to 
them, — 

“ Patience, brother,’’ and “‘ Courage, brother.” 
And then he said, ‘‘ Those whom we loved best 
are nearly all with us; but some have not yet 
come.” 

“ Oh,” said the little Pilgrim, “ but how then 
do you bear it, to be parted so long — so long?” 

Then one of those to whom the first speaker 
had called out ‘ Patience”’ rose, and came to 
her smiling ; and he said, — 

“JT think every hour that perhaps she will 
come, and the joy will be so great, that thinking 
of that makes the waiting short: and nothing 
here is long, for it never ends; and it will be so 
wonderful to hear her tell how the Father has 
guided her, that it will be a delight to us all ; and 
she will be able to explain many things, not only 
for us, but for all; and we love each other so 


go A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


that this separation is as nothing in comparison 
with what is to come.” 

It was beautiful to hear this, but it was not 
what the little Pilgrim expected, for she thought 
they would have told her of the homes to which 
they all returned when their work was over, and 
a life which was like the life of the old time ; but 
of this they said nothing, only looking at her 
with smiling eyes, as at the curious questions of 
a child. And there were many other things she 
would have asked, but refrained when she looked 
at them, feeling as if she did not yet understand ; 
when one of them broke forth suddenly in a 
louder voice, and said, — 

“ The little sister knows only the little language 
and the beginning of days. She has not learned 
the mysteries, and what Love is, and what life 
1S a 

And another cried, “It is sweet to hear it, 
again;”’ and they all gathered round her with 
tender looks, and began to talk to each other, 
and tell her, as men will tell of the games of 
their childhood, of things that happened, which 
were half-forgotten, in the old time. 

After this the little Pilgrim went out again into 
the beautiful city, feeling in her heart that every- 
thing was a mystery, and that the days would 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. gI 


never be long enough to learn all that had yet to 
be learned, but knowing now that this too was 
the little language, and pleased with the sweet 
thought of so much that was to come. For one 
had whispered to her as she went out that the 
new tongue, and every explanation, as she was 
ready for it, would come to her through one of 
those whom she loved best, which is the usage 
of that country. And when the stranger has no 
one there that is very dear, then it is an angel 
who teaches the greater language, and that is 
what happens often to the children who are 
brought up in that heavenly place. When she 
reached the. street again, she was so pleased with 
this thought that it went out of her mind to ask 
her way to the great library, where she was to 
read the story of the historian’s journey through 
the land of darkness; indeed she forgot that 
land altogether, and thought only of what was 
around her in the great city, which is beyond 
everything that eye has seen, or that ear has 
heard, or that it has entered into the imagination 
to conceive. And now it seemed to her that she 
was much more familiar with the looks of the 
people, and could distinguish between those who 
belonged to the city and those who were visitors 
like herself ; and also could tell which they were 


Q2 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


who had entered into the mysteries of the king- 
dom, and which were, like herself, only acquainted 
with the beginning of days. And it came to her 
mind, she could not tell how, that it was best not 
to ask questions, but to wait until the beloved 
one should come, who would teach her the first 
words. For in the mean time she did not feel at 
all impatient or disturbed by her want of knowl- 
edge, but laughed a little at herself to suppose 
that she could find out everything, and went on 
looking round her, and saying a word to every 
one she met, and enjoying the holiday looks of 
all the strangers, and the sense she had in her 
heart of holiday too. She was walking on in this 
pleasant way, when she heard a sound that was 
like silver trumpets, and saw the crowd turn 
towards an open space in which all the beautiful 
buildings were shaded with fine trees, and flowers 
were springing at the very edge of the pavements. 
The strangers all hastened along to hear what it 
was, and she with them, and some also of the 
people of the place. And as the little Pilgrim 
found herself walking by a woman who was of 
these last, she asked her what it was. 

And the woman told her it was a poet who had 
come to say to them what had been revealed to 
him, and that the two with the silver trumpets 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 93 


were angels of the musicians’ order, whose office 
it was to proclaim everything that was new, that 
the people should know. And many of those 
who were at work in the palaces came out and 
joined the crowd, and the painter who had 
showed the little Pilgrim his picture, and many 
whose faces she began to be acquainted with. 
The poet stood up upon a beautiful pedestal 
all sculptured in stone, and with wreaths of liv- 
ing flowers hung upon it —and when the crowd 
had gathered in front of him, he began his poem. 
He told them that it was not about this land, or 
anything that happened in it, which they knew 
as he did, but that it was a story of the old time, 
when men were walking in darkness, and when 
no one knew the true meaning even of what he 
himself did, but had to go on as if blindly, 
stumbling and groping with their hands. And 
“Oh, brethren,” he said, “though all is more 
beautiful and joyful here where we know, yet to 
remember the days when we knew not, and the 
ways when all was uncertain, and the end could 
not be distinguished from the beginning, is sweet 
and dear ; and that which was done in the dim 
twilight should be celebrated in the day; and 
our Father himself loves to hear of those who, 
having not seen, loved, and who learned without 


94 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


any teacher, and followed the light, though they 
did not understand.” 

And then he told them the story of one who 
had lived in the old time ; and in that air, which 
seemed to be made of sunshine, and amid all 
those stately palaces, he described to them the 
little earth which they had left behind — the skies 
that were covered with clouds, and the ways that 
were so rough and stony, and the cruelty of the 
oppressor, and the cries of those that were op- 
pressed. And he showed the sickness and the 
troubles, and the sorrow and danger; and how 
Death stalked about, and tore heart from heart ; 
and how sometimes the strongest would fail, 
and the truest fall under the power of a lie, and 
the tenderest forget to be kind; and how evil 
things lurked in every corner to beguile the 
dwellers there ; and how the days were short and 
the nights dark, and life so little that by the time 
a man had learned something it was his hour to 
die. ‘“ What can a soul do that is born there?” 
he cried ; “ for war is there and fighting, and per- 
plexity and darkness ; and no man knows if that 
which he does will be for good or evil, or can 
tell which is the best way, or know the end from 
the beginning ; and those he loves the most are a 
mystery to him, and their thoughts beyond his 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 95 


reach. And clouds are between him and the 
Father, and he is deceived with false gods and 
false teachers, who make him to love a lie.” The 
people who were listening held their breath, and 
a shadow like a cloud fell on them, and they re- 
membered and knew that it was true. But the 
next moment their hearts rebelled, and one and 
another would have spoken, and the little Pilgrim 
herself had almost cried out and made her plea 
for the dear earth which she loved; when he 
suddenly threw forth his voice again like a great 
song. ‘Oh, dear mother earth,” he cried ; “oh, 
little world and great, forgive thy son! for lovely 
thou art and dear, and the sun of God shines 
upon thee, and the sweet dews fall; and there 
were we born, and loved and died, and are come 
hence to bless the Father and the Son. For in 
no other world, though they are so vast, is it 
given to any to know the Lord in the darkness, 
and follow him groping, and make way through 
sin and death, and overcome the evil, and con- 
quer in his name.” At which there was a great 
sound of weeping and of triumph, and the little 
Pilgrim could not contain herself, but cried out 
too in joy as if for a deliverance. And then the 
poet told his tale. And as he told them of the 
man who was poor and sorrowful and alone, 


96 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


and how he loved and was not loved again, and 
trusted and was betrayed, and was tempted. and 
drawn into the darkness, so that it seemed as if 
he must perish ; but when hope was almost gone, 
turned again from the edge of despair, and con- 
fronted all his enemies, and fought and conquered, 
—the people followed every word with great out 
cries of love and pity and wonder. For eack 
one as he listened remembered his own caree) 
and that of his brethren in the old life, and 
admired to think that all the evil was past, and 
wondered that out of such tribulation and through 
so many dangers all were safe and blessed here. 
And there were others that were not of them, 
who listened, some seated at the windows of the 
palaces and some standing in the great square, 
— people who were not like the others, whose 
bearing was more majestic, and who looked upon 
the crowd all smiling and weeping, with wonder 
and interest, but had no knowledge of the cause, 
and listened as it were toa tale that is told. The 
poet and his audience were as one, and at every 
period of the story there was a deep breathing 
and pause, and every one looked at his neigh- 
bor, and some grasped each other’s hands as 
they remembered all that was in the past; but 
the strangers listened and gazed and observed 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 97 


all, as those who listen and are instructed in 
something beyond their knowledge. The little 
Pilgrim stood all this time not knowing where she 
was, so intent was she upon the tale ; and as she 
listened it seemed to her that all her own life was 
rolling out before her, and she remembered the 
things that had been, and perceived how all had 
been shaped and guided, and trembled a little 
for the brother who was in danger, yet knew that 
all would be well. 

The woman who had been at her side listened 
too with all her heart, saying to herself, as she 
stood in the crowd, “‘ He has left nothing out! 
The little days they were so short, and the skies 
would change all in a moment and one’s heart 
with them. How he brings it all back!” And 
she put up her hand to dry away a tear from her 
eyes, though her face all the time was shining 
with the recollection. The little Pilgrim was glad 
to be by the side of a woman after talking with 
so many men, and she put out her hand and 
touched the cloak that this lady wore, and which 
was white and of the most beautiful texture, with 
gold threads woven in it, or something that looked 
like gold. 

“To you like,” she said, “to think of the old 
time?” 

7 


98 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


The woman turned and looked down upon her, 
for she was tall and stately, and immediately took 
the hand of the little Pilgrim into hers, and held 
it without answering, till the poet had ended and 
come down from the place where he had been 
standing. He came straight through the crowd 
to where this lady stood, and said something to 
her. “You did well to tell me,” looking at her 
with love in his eyes, — not the tender sweetness 
of all those kind looks around, but the love that 
is for one. The little Pilgrim looked at them 
with her heart beating, and was very glad for 
them, and happy in herself ; for she had not seen 
this love before since she came into the city, and 
it had troubled her to think that perhaps it did 
not exist any more. “TI am glad,” the lady said, 
and gave him her other hand; “ but here is a 
little sister who asks me something, and I must 
answer her. I think she has but newly come.” 

“She has a face full of the morning,” the poet 
said. It did the little Pilgrim good to feel the 
touch of the warm, soft hand; and she was not 
afraid, but lifted her eyes and spoke to the lady 
and to the poet. “It is beautiful what you said 
to us. Sometimes in the old time we used to 
look up to the beautiful skies and wonder what 
there was above the clouds ; but we never thought 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 99 


“that up here in this great city you would be think- 

ing of what we were doing, and making beautiful 
poems all about.us. We thought that you would 
sing wonderful psalms, and talk of things high, 
high above us.” 

“The little sister does not know what the 
meaning of the earth is,” the poet said. “It is 
but a little speck, but it is the centre of all. Let 
her walk with us, and we will go home, and you 
will tell her, Ama, for I love to hear you talk.” 

“ Will you come with us?” the lady said. 

And the little Pilgrim’s heart leaped up in her, 
to think she was now going to see a home in this 
wonderful city; and they went along, hand in 
hand, and though they were three together, and 
many were coming and going, there was no diffi- 
culty, for every one made way for them. And 
there was a little murmur of pleasure as the poet 
passed, and those who had heard his poem made 
obeisance to him, and thanked him, and thanked 
the Father for him that he was able to show them 
so many beautiful things. And they walked along 
the street which was shining with color, and saw 
as they passed how the master painter had come 
to his work, and was standing upon the balcony 
where the little Pilgrim had been, and bringing 
out of the wall, under his hand, faces which were 


I10oO A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


full of life, and which seemed to spring forth as 
if they had been hidden there. “ Let us wait a 
little.and see him working,” the poet said; and 
all round about the people stopped on. their way, 
and there was a soft cry of pleasure and praise 
all through the beautiful street. And the painter 
with whom the little Pilgrim had talked before 
came, and stood behind her as if he had been an 
old friend, and called out to her at every new 
touch to mark how this and that was done. She 
did not understand as he did, but she saw how 
beautiful it was, and she was glad to have seen 
the great painter, as she had been glad to hear 
the great poet. It seemed to the little Pilgrim as 
if everything happened well for her, and that no 
one had ever been so blessed before. And to 
make it all more sweet, this new friend, this great 
and sweet lady, always held her hand, and pressed 
it softly when something more lovely appeared ; 
and even the pictured faces on the wall seemed 
to beam upon her, as they came out one by one 
like the stars in the sky. Then the three went 
on again, and passed by many more beautiful 
palaces, and great streets leading away into the 
light, till you could see no further ; and they met 
with bands of singers who sang so sweetly that 
the heart seemed to leap out of the Pilgrim’s 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 101 


breast to meet with them, for above all things 
this was what she had loved most. And out of 
one of the palaces there came such glorious 
music that everything she had seen and heard 
before seemed as nothing in comparison. And 
amid all these delights they went on and on, but 
without wearying, till they came out of the streets 
into lovely walks and alleys, and made their way 
to the banks of a great river, which seemed to 
sing, too, a soft melody of its own. 

And here there were some fair houses sur- 
rounded by gardens and flowers that grew every- 
where, and the doors were all open, and within 
everything was lovely and still, and ready for 
rest if you were weary. ‘The little Pilgrim was 
not weary ; but the lady placed her upon a couch 
in the porch, where the pillars and the roof were 
all formed of interlacing plants and flowers ; and 
there they sat with her, and talked, and explained 
to her many things. They told her that the earth 
though so small was the place in all the world to 
which the thoughts of those above were turned. 
** And not only of us who have lived there, but of 
all our brothers in the other worlds; for we are 
the race which the Father has chosen to be the 
example. In every age there is one that is the 
scene of the struggle and the victory, and it is for 


102 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


this reason that the chronicles are made, and that 
we are all placed here to gather the meaning of 
what has been done among men. And I am one 
of those,”’ the lady said, “that go back to the 
dear earth and gather up the tale of what our 
little brethren are doing. I have not to succor 
like some others, but only to see and bring the 
news ; and he makes them into great poems, 
as you have heard; and sometimes the master 
painter will take one and make of it a picture ; 
and there is nothing that is so delightful to us as 
when we can bring back the histories of beautiful 
things.” 

“ But, oh,” said the Jittle Pilgrim, “ what can 
there be on earth so beautiful as the meanest 
thing that is here?” 

Then they both smiled upon her and said, “ It 
is more beautiful than the most beautiful thing 
here to see how, under the low skies and in the 
short days, a soul will turn to our Father. And 
sometimes,” said Ama, “when I am watching, 
one will wander and stray, and be led into the 
dark till my heart is sick; then come back and 
make me glad. Sometimes I cry out within my- 
self to the Father, and say, ‘O my Father, it is 
enough !’ and it will seem to me that it is not 
possible to stand by and see his destruction. 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. - 103 


And then while you are gazing, while you are 
crying, he will recover and return, and go on 
again. And to the angels it is more wonderful 
than to us, for they have never lived there. And 
all the other worlds are eager to hear what we 
can tell them. For no one knows except the 
Father how the battle will turn, or when it will all 
be accomplished ; and there are some who trem- 
ble for our little brethren. For to look down and 
sce how little light there is, and how no one 
knows what may happen to him next, makes them 
afraid who never were there.” 

The little Pilgrim listened with an intent face, 
clasping her hands, and said, — 

** But it never could be that our Father should 
be overcome by evil. Is not that known in all 
the worlds?” 

Then the lady turned and kissed her ; and the 
poet broke forth in singing, and said, “ Faith 
is more heavenly than heaven; it is more beau- 
tiful than the angels. It is the only voice that 
can answer to our Father. We praise him, we 
glorify him, we love his name; but there is but 
one response to him through all the worlds, and 
that is the cry of the little brothers, who see 
nothing and know nothing, but believe that he 
will never fail.” 


104 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


At this the little Pilgrim wept, for her heart was 
touched ; but she said, — 

“We are not so ignorant; for we have our 
Lord who is our Brother, and he teaches us all 
that we require to know.” 

Upon this the poet rose and lifted up his 
hands and sang again a great song; it was in the 
other language which the little Pilgrim still did 
not understand, but she could make out that it 
sounded like a great proclamation that He was 
wise as he was good, and called upon all to see 
that the Lord had chosen the only way: and the 
sound of the poet’s voice was like a great trumpet 
sounding bold and sweet, as if to tell this to those 
who were far away. 

“For you must know,” said the Lady Ama, 
who all the time held the Pilgrim’s hand, ‘‘ that 
it is permitted to all to judge according to the 
wisdom that has been given them. And there 
are some who think that our dear Lord might 
have found another way, and that wait, sometimes _ 
with trembling, lest he should fail; but not 
among us who have lived on earth, for we know. 
And it is our work to show to all the worlds that 
his way never fails, and how wonderful it is, and 
beautiful above all that heart has conceived. 
And thus we justify the ways of God, who is our 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 105 


Father. But in the other worlds there are many 
who will continue to fear until the history of the 
earth is all ended and the chronicles are made 
complete.” 

“And will that be long?” the little Pilgrim 
cried, feeling in her heart that she would like to 
go to all the worlds and tell them of our Lord, 
and of his love, and how the thought of him 
makes you strong; and it troubled her a little to 
hear her friends speak of the low skies, and the 
short days, and the dimness of that dear country 
which she had left behind, in which there were 
so many still whom she loved. 

Upon this Ama shook her head, and said that 
of that day no one knew, not even our Lord, but 
only the Father; and then she smiled and 
answered the little Pilgrim’s- thought. ‘ When 
we go back,” she said, “it is not as when we 
lived there ; for now we see all the dangers of it 
and the mysteries which we did not see before. 
It was by the Father’s dear love that we did not 
see what was around us and about us while we 
lived there, for then our hearts would have 
fainted ; and that makes us wonder now that any 
one endures to the end.” 

“You are a great deal wiser than I am,” said 
‘the little Pilgrim ; ‘ but, though our hearts had 


106 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


fainted, how could we have been overcome? for 
He was on our side.” 

At this neither of them made any reply at first, 
but looked at her; and at length the poet said 
that she had brought many thoughts back to his 
mind, and how he had himself been almost 
worsted when one like her came to him and gave 
strength to his soul. ‘“ For that He was on our 
side was the only thing she knew,” he said, “ and 
all that could be learned or discovered was not 
worthy of naming beside it. And this I must tell 
when next I speak to the people, and how our 
little sister brought it to my mind.” 

And then they paused from this discourse, and 
the little Pilgrim looked round upon the beautiful 
houses and the fair gardens, and she said, — 

“You live here? and do you come home at 
night?— but I do not mean at night, I mean 
when your work is done. And are they poets 
like you that dwell all about in these pleasant 
places, and the —” 

She would have said the children, but stopped, 
not knowing if perhaps it might be unkind to 
speak of the children when she saw none there. 

Upon this the lady smiled once more, and 
said, — 

“The door stands open always, so that no one is 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 107 


shut out, and the children come and go when they 
will. They are children no longer, and they have 
their appointed work like him and me.” 

“‘ And you are always among those you love?” 
the Pilgrim said ; upon which they smiled again 
and said, ‘We all love each other;” and the 
lady held her hand in both of hers, and caressed 
it, and softly laughed and said, “ You know only 
the little language. When you have been taught 
the other you will learn many beautiful things.” 

She rested for some time after this, and talked 
much with her new friends ; and then there came 
into the heart of the little Pilgrim a longing to go 
to the place which was appointed for her, and 
which was her home, and to do the work which 
had been given her to do. And when the lady 
saw this she rose and said that she would accom- 
pany her a little upon her way. But the poet bid 
her farewell and remained under the porch, with 
the green branches shading him, and the flowers 
twining round the pillars, and the open door of 
this beautiful house behind him. When she 
looked back upon him he waved his hand to her 
as if bidding her God-speed, and the lady by her 
side Jooked back too and waved her hand, and 
the little Pilgrim felt tears of happiness come to 
her eyes ; for she had been wondering with a little 


108 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


disappointment to see that the people in the city, 
except those who were strangers, were chiefly 
alone, and not like those in the old world where the 
husband and wife go together. It consoled her 
to see again two who were one. ‘The lady pressed 
her hand in answer to her thought, and bade: her 
pause a moment and look back into the city as 
they passed the end of the great street out of 
which they came. And then the Pilgrim was 
more and more consoled, for she saw many who 
had before been alone now walking together hand 
in hand. 

“Tt is not as it was,’? Ama said. “For all of 
us have work to do which is needed for the 
worlds, and it is no longer needful that one should 
sit at home while the other goes forth; for our 
work is not for our life as of old, or for ourselves, 
but for the Father who has given us so great a 
trust. And, little sister, you must know that 
though we are not so great as the angels, nor as 
many that come to visit us from the other worlds, 
yet we are nearer to him. For we are in his 
secret, and it is ours to make it clear.” 

The little Pilgrim’s heart was very full to hear 
this ; but she said, — 

“T was never clever, nor knew much. It is 
better for me to go away to my little border-land, | 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. Tog 


and help the strangers who do not know the 
way.” , 

“‘ Whatever is your work is the best,” the lady 
said ; “ but though you are so little you are in 
the Father’s secret too ; for it is nature to you to 
know what the others cannot be sure of, that we 
must have the victory at the last: so that we 
have this between us, the Father and we. And 
though all are his children, we are of the kindred 
of God, because of our Lord who is our Brother.”’ 
And then the Lady Ama kissed her, and bade 
her when she returned to the great city, either 
for rest or for love, or because the Father sent 
for her, that she should come to the house by 
the river. ‘‘ For we are friends for ever,’ she 
said, and so threw her white veil over her head, 
and was gone upon her mission, whither the little 
Pilgrim did not know. 

And now she found herself at a distance from 
the great city, which shone in the light with its 
beautiful towers, and roofs, and all its monuments, 
softly fringed with trees, and set in a heavenly firma- 
ment. And the Pilgrim thought of those words 
that described this lovely place as a bride adorned 
for her husband, and did not wonder at him who 
had said that her streets were of gold and her 
gates of pearl, because gold and pearls and pre- 


I1IO A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


cious jewels were as nothing to the glory and the 
beauty of her. The little Pilgrim was glad to have 
seen these wonderful things, and her mind was 
like a cup running over with almost more than it 
could contain. It seemed to her that there never 
could be a time when she should want for wonder 
and interest and delight, so long as she had this 
to think of. Yet she was not sorry to turn her 
back upon the beautiful city, but went on her way 
singing in unutterable content, and thinking over 
what the lady had said, that we were in God’s se- 
cret, more than all the great worlds above and 
even the angels, because of knowing how it is that 
in darkness and doubt, and without any open vis- 
ion, a man may still keep the right way. The 
path lay along the bank of the river which flowed 
beside her and made the air full of music, and 
a soft air blew across the running stream and 
breathed in her face and refreshed her, and the 
birds sang in all the trees. And as she passed 
through the villages the people came out to meet 
her, and asked of her if she had come from the 
city, and what she had seen there. And every- 
where she found friends, and kind voices that 
gave her greeting. But some would ask her why 
she still spoke the little language, though it was 
sweet to their ears; and others when they heard 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. Lid 


it hastened to call from the houses and the fields 
some among them who knew the other tongue 
but a little, and who came and crowded round 
the little Pilgrim, and asked her many questions 
both about the things she had been seeing and 
about the old time. And she perceived that the 
village folk were a simple folk, not learned and 
wise like those she had left; and that though 
they lived within sight of the great city, and 
showed every stranger the beautiful view of it, 
and the glory of its towers, yet few among them 
had travelled there; for they were so content 
with their fields, and their river, and the shade of 
their trees, and the birds singing, and their simple 
life, that they wanted no change; though it 
pleased them to receive the little Pilgrim, and 
they brought her into their villages rejoicing, and 
called every one to see her. And they told her 
that they had all been poor and labored hard in 
the old time, and had never rested; so that now 
it was the Father’s good pleasure that they should 
enjoy great peace and consolation among the 
fresh-breathing fields and on the riverside, so that 
there were many who even now had little occu- 
pation except to think of the Father’s goodness, 
and to rest. And they told her how the Lord 
himself would come among them, and sit down 


I1i2 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


under a tree, and tell them one of his parables, 
and make them all more happy than words could 
say; and how sometimes he would send one 
out of the beautiful city, with a poem or tale to 
say to them, and bands of lovely music, more 
lovely than anything beside, except the sound of 
the Lord’s own voice. ‘“ And what is more won- 
derful, the angels themselves come often and lis- 
ten to us,” they said, “‘ when we begin to talk and 
remind each other of the old time, and how we 
suffered heat and cold, and were bowed down 
with labor, and bending over the soil, and how 
sometimes the harvest would fail us, and some- 
times we had not bread, and sometimes would 
hush the children to sleep because there was 
nothing to give them; and how we grew old and 
weary, and still worked on and on.” ‘“ We are 
those who were old,” a number of them called 
out to her, with a murmuring sound of laughter, 
one looking over another’s shoulder. And one 
woman said, ‘The angels say to us, ‘ Did you 
never think the Father had forsaken you and the 
Lord forgotten you?’”’ And all the rest an- 
swered as in a chorus, “There were moments 
that we thought this; but all the time we knew 
that it could not be.” ‘And the angels wonder 
at us,” said another. All this they said, crowd- 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. AAs 


ing one before another, every one anxious to say 
something, and sometimes speaking together, but 
always in accord. And then there was a sound 
of laughter and pleasure, both at the strange 
thought that the Lord could have forgotten them, 
and at the wonder of the angels over their simple 
tales. And immediately they began to remind 
each other, and say, “Do you remember?” and 
they told the little Pilgrim a hundred tales of the 
hardships and troubles they had known, all smil- 
ing and radiant with pleasure ; and at every new 
account the others would applaud and rejoice, 
feeling the happiness all the more for the evils 
that were past. And some of them led her into 
their gardens to show her their flowers, and to 
tell her how they had begun to study and learn 
how colors were changed and form perfected, and 
the secrets of the growth and of the germ, of 
which they had been ignorant. And others ar- 
ranged themselves in choirs, and sang to her de- 
lightful songs of the fields, and accompanied her 
out upon her way, singing and answering to each 
other. The difference between the simple folk 
and the greatness of the others made the little 
Pilgrim wonder and admire ; and she loved them 
in her simplicity, and turned back many a time 


to wave her hand to them, and to listen to the 
8 


II4 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


lovely simple singing as it went further and fur- 
ther away. It had an evening tone of rest and 
quietness, and of protection and peace. ‘“ He 
leadeth me by the green pastures and beside the 
quiet waters,” she said to herself; and her heart 
swelled with pleasure to think that it was those 
who had been so old, and so weary and poor, 
who had this rest to console them for all their 
SOITOWS. 

And as she went along, not only did she pass 
through many other villages, but met many on the 
way who were travelling towards the great city, 
and would greet her sweetly as they passed, and 
sometimes stop to say a pleasant word, so that 
the little Pilgrim was never lonely wherever she 
went. But most of them began to speak to her 
in the other language, which was as beautiful and 
sweet as music, but which she could not under- 
stand ; and they were surprised to find her ignorant 
of it, not knowing that she was but a new-comer 
into these lands. And there were many things that . 
could not be told but in that language, for the 
earthly tongue had no words to express them. 
The little Pilgrim was a little sad not to under- 
stand what was said to her, but cheered herself 
with the thought that it should be taught to her by 
one whom she loved best. The way by the river- 


A LITTLE. PILGRIM. . I1t5 


side was very cheerful and bright, with many 
people coming and going, and many villages, 
some of them with a bridge across the stream, some 
withdrawn among the fields, but all of them 
bright and full of life, and with sounds of music, - 
and voices, and footsteps: and the little Pilgrim 
felt no weariness, and moved along as lightly as a 
child, taking great pleasure in everything she saw, 
and answering all the friendly greetings with all her 
heart, yet glad to think that she was approaching 
ever nearer to the country where it was ordained 
that she should dwell for a time and succor the 
strangers, and receive those who were newly ar- 
rived. Andshe consoled herself with the thought 
that there was no need of any language but that 
which she knew. As this went through her mind, 
making her glad, she suddenly became aware of 
one who was walking by her side, a lady who was 
covered with a veil white and shining like that 
which Ama had worn in the beautiful city. It 
hung about this stranger’s head so that it was not 
easy to see her face, but the sound of her voice 
was very sweet in the pilgrim’s ear, yet startled 
her like the sound of something which she knew 
well, but could not remember. And as there 
were few who were going that way, she was glad 
and said, “‘ Let us walk together, if that pleases 


116 A LITTLE PILGRIM. e 


you.’ And the stranger said, “ It is for that I have 
come,” which was a reply which made the little 
Pilgrim wonder more and more, though she was 
very glad and joyful to have this companion upon 
her way. And then the lady began to ask her 
many questions, not about the city, or the great 
things she had seen, but about herself, and what 
the dear Lord had given her to do. 

“JT am little and weak, and I cannot do much,” 
the little Pilgrim said. ‘It is nothing but pleas- 
ure. It is to welcome those that are coming, and 
tell them. Sometimes they are astonished and do 
not know. Iwasso myself. I came in mysleep, 
and understood nothing. But now that I know, 
it is sweet to tell them that they need not fear.” 

“T was glad,” the lady said, “that you came 
in your sleep ; for sometimes the way is dark and 
hard, and you are little and tender. When your 
brother comes you will be the first to see him, 
and show him the way.” 

“My brother! is he coming?” the little Pil- 
grim cried. And then she said with a wistful 
look, “ But we are all brethren, and you mean 
only one of those who are the children of our 
Father. You must forgive me that I do not 
know the higher speech, but only what is natural, 
for I have not yet been long here.” 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. i | 


“He whom I mean is called —”’ and here the 
lady said a name which was the true name of 
a brother born whom the Pilgrim loved above 
all others. She gave a cry, and then she said, 
trembling, “ I know your voice, but I cannot see 
your face. And what you say makes me think 
of many things. No one else has covered her 
face when she has spoken to me. I know you, 
and yet I cannot tell who you are.” 

The woman stood for a little without saying a 
word, and then very softly, in a voice which only 
the heart heard, she called the little Pilgrim by 
her name. 

“ MoTHER,”’ cried the Pilgrim, with such a cry 
of joy that it echoed all about in the sweet 
air, and flung herself upon the veiled lady, and 
drew the veil from her face, and saw that it was 
she. And with this sight there came a revelation 
which flooded her soul with happiness. For the 
face which had been old and feeble was old no 
longer, but fair in the maturity of day; and the 
figure that had been bent and weary was full of 
a tender majesty, and the arms that clasped her 
about were warm and soft with love and life. 
And all that had changed their relations in the 
other days and made the mother in her weakness 
seem as a child, and transferred all protection 


118 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


and strength to the daughter, was gone for ever: ~ 
and the little Pilgrim beheld in a rapture one who 
was her sister and equal, yet ever above her, — 
more near to her than any, though all were so 
near, — one of whom she herself was a part, yet 
another, and who knew all her thoughts and the 
way of them before they arose in her. And to 
see her face as in the days of her prime, and her 
eyes so clear and wise, and to feel once more 
that which is different from the love of all, that 
which is still most sweet where all is sweet, the 
love of one, was like a crown to her in her hap- 
piness. The little Pilgrim could not think for joy, 
nor say a word, but held this dear mother’s hands 
and looked in her face, and her heart soared away 
to the Father in thanks and joy. They sat down 
by the roadside under the shade of the trees, — 
while the river ran softly by, and everything was 
hushed out of sympathy and kindness,— and ques- 
tioned each other of all that had been and was to 
be. And the little Pilgrim told all the little news of 
home, and of the brothers and sisters and the 
children that had been born, and of those whose 
faces were turned towards this better country ; 
and the mother smiled and listened and would 
have heard all over and over, although many 
things she already knew. ‘ But why should I tell 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. Itg 


you, for did not you watch over us and see all we 
did, and were not you near us always?” the little 
Pilgrim said. 

“ How could that be?” said the mother ; “ for 
we are not like our Lord, to be everywhere. We 
come and go where we are sent. But sometimes 
we knew, and sometimes saw, and always loved. 
And whenever our hearts were sick for news it 
was but to go to him, and he told us everything. 
And now, my little one, you are as we are, and 
have seen the Lord. And this has been given us, 
to teach our child once more, and show you the 
heavenly language, that you may understand all, 
both the little and the great.” 

Then the Pilgrim lifted her head from her moth- 
er’s bosom, and looked in her face with eyes full 
of longing. ‘“ You said ‘ we,’”’ she said. 

The mother did nothing but smile ; then lifted 
her eyes and looked along the beautiful path of 
the river to where some one was.coming to join 
them. And the little Pilgrim cried out again, 
in wonder and joy; and presently found herself 
seated between them, her father and her mother, 
the two who had loved her most if the other days. 
They looked more beautiful than the angels and 
all the great persons whom she had seen; for 
still they were hers and she was theirs more than 


I20 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


all the angels and all the blessed could be. Ana 
thus she learned that though the new may take 
the place of the old, and many things may blos- 
som out of it like flowers, yet that the old is never 
done away. And then they sat together, telling 
of everything that had befallen, and all the little 
tender things that were of no import, and all the 
great changes and noble ways, and the wonders 
of heaven above and the earth beneath, for ail 
were open to them, both great and small; and 
when they had satisfied their souls with these, her 
father and mother began to teach her the other 
language, smiling: often at her faltering tongue, 
and telling her the same thing over and over till 
she learnt it; and her father ca'led her his little 
foolish one, as he had done in the old days ; and 
at last, when they had kissed her and blessed her, 
and told her how to come home to them when 
she was weary, they gave her, as the Father had 
permitted them, with joy and blessing, her new 
name. 

The little Pilgrim was tired with happiness and — 
all the wonder and pleasure ; and as she sat there 
in the silence, leaning upon those who were so 
dear to her, the soft air grew sweeter and sweeter 
about her, and the light faded softly into a dim- 
ness of tender indulgence and privilege for her, 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 121 


because she was still little and weak. And 
whether that heavenly suspense of all her facul- 
ties was sleep or not she knew not, but it was 
such as in all her life she had never known. 
When she came back to herself, it was by the 
sound of many voices calling her, and many peo- 
ple hastening past and beckoning to her to join 
them. 

“Come, come,” they said, “ little sister: there 
has been great trouble in the other life, and 
many have arrived suddenly and are afraid. 
Come, come, and help them,— come and help 
them !”’ 

And she sprang up from her soft seat, and 
found that she was no longer by the riverside, or 
within sight of the great city, or in the arms of 
those she loved, but stood on one of the flowery — 
paths of her own border-land, and saw her fellows 
hastening towards the gates where there seemed 
a great crowd. And she was no longer weary, 
but full of life and strength ; and it seemed to her 
that she could take them up in her arms, those 
trembling strangers, and carry them straight to 
the Father, so strong was she, and light, and full 
of force. And above all the gladness she had 
felt, and all her pleasure in what she had seen, 
and more happy even than the meeting with 


122 A LITTLE PILGRIM. 


those she loved most, was her happiness now, as 
she went along as light as the breeze to receive 
the strangers. She was so eager that she began 
to sing a song of welcome as she hastened on. 
“Oh, welcome, welcome!” she cried; and as 
she sang she knew it was one of the heavenly 
melodies which she had heard in the great city ; 
and she hastened on, her feet flying over the 
flowery ways, thinking how the great worlds were 
all watching, and the angels looking on, and 
the whole universe waiting till it should be 
proved to them that the dear Lord, the Brother 
of us all, had chosen the perfect way, and that 
over all evil and the sorrow he was the Conqueror 
alone. 

And the little Pilgrim’s voice, though it was so 
‘small, echoed away through the great firmament 
to where the other worlds were watching to see 
what should come, and cheered the anxious faces 
of some great lords and princes far more great 
than she, who were of a nobler race than man; 
for it was said among the stars that when such a 
little sound could reach so far, it was a token that 
the Lord had chosen aright, and that his method 
must be the best. And it breathed over the earth 
like some one saying Courage! to those whose 
hearts were failing ; and it dropped down, down, 


————~ — 


A LITTLE PILGRIM. 123 


into the great confusions and traffic of the Land of 
Darkness, and startled many, like the cry of a 
child calling and calling, and never ceasing, 
“Come ! and come! and come!” 





University Press, Cambridge: John Wilson & Son. 








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Messrs. Roberts Brothers Publications. 





QUIET HOURS. 


A COLLECTION OF POEMS, MEDITATIVE 
AND RELIGIOUS. 


FIRST AND SECOND SERIES. 


** Such a book as this seems to us much better adapted than any formal book 
of devotion to beget a calm and prayerful spirit in the reader. It will no doubt 
become a dear companion to many earnestly religious people.” — Christian 
Register. 

“Thousands of thoughtful and devout minds have been helped, comforted, and 
strengthened by the little volume of poetical selections, published under the title 
of ‘Quiet Hours,’ some years since; and these and many more will welcome a new 
volume, published under the same title, constructed on the same plan, and 
breathing the same earnest and gentle spirit. This second series of ‘ Quiet 
Hours,’ like the first, bears the imprint of Roberts Bros. It is contained ina 
dainty little volume of the Little Classic style, prettily printed and bound; and 
there are not far from two hundred pieces in it, grouped under the heads, 
‘Nature,’ ‘Morning and Evening,’ ‘Inward Strife,’ ‘Life and Duty,’ 
‘Prayer and Aspiration,’ ‘Trust and Adoration,’ ‘Heaven and the Saints,’ 
and ‘ Miscellaneous.’ The poems are chosen with exquisite taste; their range 
is broad, and their tone is clear and true.” — Boston Fournal. 

***Quiet Hours’ is the appropriate title which some unnamed compiler has 
given toa collection of musings of many writers, — a nosegay made up of some 
slighter, choicer, and more delicate flowers from the garden of the poets. Emer- 
son, Chadwick, Higginson, Arnold, Whittier, and Clough are represented, as 
well as Coleridge, Browning, Wordsworth, and Tennyson; and the selections 
widely vary in character, ranging from such as relate to the moods and aspects of 
nature, to voices of the soul when most deeply stirred.’’ — Congregationalist. 


——~—— 


18mo, cloth, red edges. Price, $1.00 each. Two vols. in one 
Price, $1.50; calf or seal, $4.00. Sold by al} booksellers. Mailed 
post-paid, by the Publishers, 
ROBERTS BROTHERS, 


Boct9Nx 


Messrs. Roberts Brothers Publications. 





SURSUM CORDA. 


Hymns OF ComrortT. Compiled by the Editor of “ Quiet 
Hours,” “ The Blessed Life,” “The Wisdom Series.” 
16mo, cloth, price $1.25; roan, price $1.50. 


‘*This compilation is the best thing of its kind that we have ever seen. 
The hymns have been chosen with excellent taste and judgment, and 
collected from many different sources. They range, as the compiler tells 
us in the preface, from the Greek Church of the eighth century to the 
present day, including the devout lyrics of the seventeenth and eighteenth 
centuries from ‘ Lyra Germanica,’ the quaint and earnest words of George 
Herbert, and the glowing utterances of Charles Wesley, Madame Guyon, 
and Tersteegen, as well as many others, ancient and modern. A pleasanter 
or more valuable gift than this unpretentious little volume would be hard 
to find.” — Woman’s Fournal. 


‘This book may well attract the eye of those who are looking for 
some neat little gift to send to an invalid friend, and its bright pages will 
doubtless be found hereafter in many a chamber of pain. Healthy and 
happy people also will do well to store up these lessons of insight, not 
only for coming days, but as a help toward sympathy with others. The 
preparation of three such manuals of soul-life as this and Mrs. Tileston’s 
previous books is indeeda gracious and delightful ministry, — a pur- 
veying to humanity’s deepest wants. And the service is all the more 
welcome because in all these books theology retires to the background, 
and religion comes to the front.’”? — Christian Register. 


“©¢Sursum Corda’ is a collection of hymns, many of them familiar 
and full of tender associations, for all who need comfort and strength, 
especially for invalids. The same rare taste and sound judgment which 
made ‘ Quiet Hours’ and ‘ Sunshine in the Soul’ so acceptable has pre- 
sided over the selection, and those who desire to have their faith strength- 
ened, and to cultivate a spirit of submission to the Divine will, cannot 
fail to find cheering and comforting help in these beautiful poetic gems 
culled from all ages.”” — Providence Fournal. 


——_6—— 
Sold by all Booksellers. Mailed, post-paid, by the Publishers, 


ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston. 

















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